


The Siege

by IreneClaire



Series: Devil's Games [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: A bit of a team fic, Bromance, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A well-equipped and highly trained band of mysterious mercenaries take over The Palace with dire circumstances for the team. But no one knows what they're really after ... especially once they disappear with both Chin and Danny as hostages. Steve whump/angst; Danny whump/angst with a heavy dose of bromance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> A bit of a plotless wonder ... at least it began with a very sketchy plot. So be patient with the muse please ... this will not go up on a regular basis. However, up to ten chapters are well drafted and I do promise that it will be completed.

**Chapter One**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

He didn't even try to wrack his brain for the answer. He simply hurt too much. And then there was the way his vision grayed, swam about and then became so grossly distorted that he couldn't even hope to focus on the blurry outline of his partner. His only resort was to close his eyes as he lay on his right side, because watching Danny's lop-sided monochrome outline stagger to and fro across the Five-0 offices was too much to contend with.

"How is he?" Danny asked, a worried glance tossed over his shoulder towards Chin who was just running back in with a med-kit. Chin's temple was bleeding, but he was otherwise unscathed. His own right arm though was cradled resolutely to his body while he fisted and re-fisted his hand continuously in a vain attempt to disseminate the stinging bite from the bullet wound which had every nerve, from his elbow down to each finger, completely on fire.

"Bad," Chin answered without looking up. "Once I'm done with him, you're next."

A look of absolute dissatisfaction streaked across Danny's face as he discounted the man's latter comment. The much too simplistic reply about his partner, and the way in which the Asian fell to his knees next to him, communicated everything else he needed to know about the baffling situation. His concern only mounted as he watched Chin begin rummaging purposefully through the medical supplies he'd retrieved.

At Chin's knees, Steve heard snippets of the discussion which entirely pertained to him. The tension pulled relentlessly at his sense of duty until he owlishly managed to peel his eyes open. Steve peered up, blinking in confusion when he felt the warmth of a hand placed so strongly on his shoulder. He frowned for a long time until he realized Chin was perched by his side. He hardly recognized where they were within the 5-0 offices - his own office in fact - as a sharp pain drilled through the side of his head. In the background, first-responder sirens, the persistent squeal of internal fire alarms, what sounded like falling water and the odd creaks and groans of a damaged building intermingled into a confusing emsemble of noise. But the _smell_. The odor of war filled his nostrils and acted like the catalyst he needed to at least try to shake himself awake.

"What happened?" His voice slurred the words as his tongue refused to cooperate. "Help ... _help_ me up."

"No, stay where you are ... just relax and stay down. We've got hostiles in the building, Steve," Chin whispered worriedly as Danny cursed softly under his breath from where he stood by the window. "You were shot, brah. Do you remember that?

"Hostiles? Why … what happened ... where's Danny?" Steve's confusion escalated when he lost sight of his partner. His thoughts skittered and his eyes were refusing to cooperate, leaving him at a loss as to what had happened. And as to why he was precisely where he was laying on the floor as his friend crouched down next to him, Steve was utterly perplexed. "Why … am I on the floor? Chin? Why … _why_ … what's going on?" His weak attempt at rising was easily thwarted by his friend's firm hand which kept him laid out flat.

"Crap, Steve. Seriously?" Chin's eyes sparkled with a dark concern as his friend flailed briefly before gasping and trying to palm away an apparent deeply seated pain in his head. He intercepted Steve's scraped and bruised hand carefully, gently pulling it away from the bloody injury. "Danny's right over there by the window ... we're going to get you out of here."

"As soon as we figure out what the hell is going on," Danny groused loudly. "Two stories never seemed so damned high before." He rapped his fingers against the solid pane of the window and shook his head at what would likely be a very bad idea. He'd like to take a chance at breaking the glass to leave that way, but the distance down without proper help was daunting. Making matters worse, was the possible extent of Steve's injuries. Plus, they didn't know what they were up against as a spat of gunfire was exchanged from somewhere above them down towards the parking lot.

"Roof? There's more of them on the roof?" Danny complained as he ducked in reaction to the loud pops and pings, his eyes following the figures of other HPD officers as they dove for cover behind various vehicles. They were outgunned and out-numbered, and completely in the dark as to the methods or mode of their attackers.

"Why … _why_ does my head … hurt," Steve moaned, his voice fading as he barely got out his last words. "… so much? Feel … sick."

"I know … I know. Relax for me, Steve," Chin whispered as his worry grew exponentially. He and Danny had hastily pulled on their tac-vests from the local lockers and draped a third over Steve's chest. Once Chin cared for the man's injuries, he planned to fasten it officially into place. He and Danny were now also armed to the teeth based on what they had access to, but Chin was drenched in both sweat and water from the sprinkler system as he hastily examined Steve's wounds. Under the heavy black vest, his shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin and the lack of air conditioning in the damaged building was already painfully obvious. "Please, brah. Just take it easy … you're okay and we are going to get you out of here."

As he listened to the worrying exchange taking place behind him, Danny narrowed his eyes dangerously while he looked cautiously out through the office window to monitor the organized chaos taking place in the large parking lot. A tactical perimeter was being organized below. He and Chin had also done their best to barricade themselves in as a safety measure, but they were woefully lacking in knowledge and at a huge disadvantage. The first explosion had sealed off their egress down, while a subsequent one more than adequately trapped them inside their wing of the building. What those bombs hadn't done, Danny and Chin completed to reinforce their location from direct attack. However, that move to keep them within Steve's office and near what was left of the main war room by the now woefully defunct smart table, also further kept them caged and with limited options.

"Along with what looks like half of HPD, SWAT's outside and geared up; they've got a perimeter in play. I don't know who else is in the building besides the three of us and our _guests_ , but I _do_ know that we're stuck right where we are for the foreseeable future. I hope Kono at least got out … or that she's hidden somewhere … somewhere safe until we figure this mess out," Danny whispered his updates quickly before leaving the window in order to crouch next to Chin's side. "This was well-orchestrated. The phones aren't working and they've managed to disrupt wireless service, so we're dead in the water."

Danny watched as Chin wiped Steve's face with a clean t-shirt once kept as a spare and once folded so neatly in his desk drawer. He winced as his own arm ached and blood continued to seep into his ruined sleeve. The bullet was still inside, likely embedded in the bone and he was in considerable pain. He had no time to worry about it though.

"He doesn't remember a thing about what happened, Danny," Chin said. "He's not focusing on anything."

Chin pawed at his face, his hand coming away damp with sweat as his stress mounted along with the airless quality of Steve's office. He'd packed and applied a pressure bandage to the bloody through and through gunshot wound which Steve had sustained to his left side. However, despite a thorough search, its heavily bleeding twin which lay two inches lower than the first, had no sign of an exit.

He'd also already done his best to care for the deep gouge along Steve's temple and his eyes focused on the bandage now taped to the side of the man's head. His concerned grimace was apparent and it left Danny wincing worriedly in denial at the unspoken opinion of a possible fractured skull. "He doesn't understand what's going on; it's like a switch just flipped off," Chin offered as explanation.

"Before he got taken down, he was hammered pretty good in that second explosion," Danny muttered, worries flitting through his head about any number of possible internal injuries on top of the many obvious ones. Steve had been just reaching the second floor landing when the next bomb had been detonated. The shock wave had virtually destroyed the floor above them sending debris cascading down in all directions. The ceiling had sagged dangerously low and the double-wide glass doors to their offices had shattered. The force had sent Steve sprawling to the tiled floor head first and then, he'd decidedly been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dazed by the overwhelming blast and attempting to protect himself from falling mangled building material, he'd miraculously managed to sway partly to his feet while automatically drawing his sidearm.

Even with Danny on the move though to back him up, it was too late. Two of their unidentified hostiles had appeared from nowhere and placed Steve in a heavy cross-fire. Danny had been shot while diving to his partner's defense through what remained of their main entrance. But Steve had gone down almost instantly and Danny had to literally drag him back through the broken glass and badly damaged hallway to the relative safety of his office.

"Easy, easy," Chin whispered desperately as Steve began to curl in on himself. Helplessly, the two men watched as Steve's eyes slid closed around a spasm of pain which brought on a sour dry heave.

"Steve?" Danny hunkered down closer next to Chin, clearly worried as Steve's breathing quickened to a near panicked rate. Heavy lines of distress knit his brow tightly as he groaned, yet he conversely seemed to drop into another zone of awareness. Seconds later, he was sagging weakly into the floor as taut muscles released one by one of their own accord.

"Hey, buddy, can you hear me? Steve?" Danny pleaded, his fears growing as his partner softly moaned and refused to open his eyes.

Chin shook his head as he half-listened to Danny's entreaties, his hand moving from Steve's left shoulder to his neck as his friend quieted far too much. "He's out," Chin glanced worriedly towards Danny, moving aside when the smaller man overwhelmed his space to anxiously palm the side of Steve's face. "This is messed up, Danny. What do these people want?"

"I don't know," Danny replied, his eyes wide with stress and concern by yet another rapid change as Steve seemed to melt limply into the very floor itself. "Hey, come on, no. _No_ … wake up, buddy," Danny tapped his cheek gently, cursing under his breath when nothing happened. Worse yet, the once sickly distressed face slackened blandly under their combined pleas. The stark contrasts to Steve's usual more animated expression, now while desperately injured, allowed them both to see the dark circles around Steve's eyes, his lids nearly luminescent. "I have no idea who these people are or what they want. But we have to put an end to it and get him out of here."

The two men jolted as one though when the entire building was plunged into relative silence. As if triggered by a master switch, all the alarms and the hissing sound of water being sprayed from the overhead sprinkler system ended with a nearly simultaneously shudder. For a long, drawn out moment, Danny and Chin merely stared at each other, tension mounting and emanating from their bodies as they froze in place and ... waited. A few seconds later a loud mechanical hum filled the gap and both men turned to face the bank of windows.

"We are so screwed," Danny muttered, his eyes widening at the very unexpected sight of the camera-equipped aerial drone hovering just outside. "This just keeps getting better."

"Danny?" Chin whispered warily. Danny nodded once in reply. They were being watched; reported on and duly measured as the drone's camera eye rotated from left to right, then back again. Something was about to happen - something decidedly _bad_ \- and they could both feel it through to their very bones. At their feet, Steve's sporadic breaths were suddenly loud and Danny's hand dropped soothingly to his shoulder before his other readied his weapon. Then he was up, the wound in his own arm forgotten as he advanced aggressively towards the window with every intention of firing through the glass to take down the drone. Behind him, Chin gasped at the suddenness of Danny decision, yet he backed him fully as he stayed low to protect Steve.

"Son of a bitch!" Danny burst out as a flurry of gunfire echoed up from the parking lot first and the drone rose higher to evade multiple attackers. HPD was firing from below and the drone wobbled before it suddenly dipped to dive away from the glass. Seconds later it was gone, but Danny was angry and still primed by the visual attack.

"Positions," he ground out to Chin as he lurched away to take up a post near a corner of the desk. He could hear new voices drawing closer from inside the building. Whomever their attackers were, they definitely knew that he and Chin were there. With the help of the drone, they'd absolutely become targets, proven when an incendiary exploded just outside their barricade. The walls to the office shook from this new assault and more grayish-white ash rained down from the ceiling, the tinkle of glass ending on a dire broken note.

Danny's final glance towards his injured partner, somewhat protected by the length of his long office couch, was fraught with a heightened sense of fear as yet another incendiary was discharged and the outer wall of the office disintegrated as if made of matchsticks.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	2. Chapter 2

 

**Chapter Two**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

He stood over the unconscious Five-0 Commander deciding rather impassively what to do. After tossing the spare bullet-proof vest to the side, his own second had given the man a cursory examination and deemed him a liability and too far gone to be of future service. Behind him, he could literally feel the remaining officers' combined frustration, anger and even ... fear as he silently bided his time over their leader's fate.

"Leave him," Spenser finally announced with an abject swing of his hand. Dylan, his second, nodded in approval after his rudely cursory examination of the injured man. Other than their important station as members of the Governor's Task Force, these people were otherwise irrelevant to their plans. Based upon what Dylan was silently communicating, the Commander was badly injured and soon to be of no concern or offer any type of continued bargaining power should they need it. Living only in the present, Spenser was only concerned with having healthier, live captives and not one that would prove an eventual liability.

"What? Leave him?" Danny glanced just once towards Chin, his face consumed by confusion. At first distressed over what the men might do to Steve in forcing him to be moved, he was stunned by the more than apparent ambivalence. "You can't just _leave_ him here. He needs medical attention! "

He was completely ignored though, his cuffed hands twisted behind his back even more as he was propelled violently from the office and forced to focus on his footing as he stumbled over debris and shards of broken glass. He tripped over his own vest which had also been ripped from his body, his vision swirling oddly at its edges and nearly fell, hissing in pain as another man's hand grasped his arm intentionally over the freely bleeding gunshot wound.

"Hey, come on," Chin pleaded as he too, was manhandled away. Before being cuffed, he and Danny had been easily divested of their weapons and then their protective vests. His entreaty was for both Steve and Danny as one lay unconscious and the other paled considerably from a growing maltreatment. He hadn't the time to care for Danny's injury at all and now blood was freely flowing down his friend's arm and curling around the metal of the cuff. With every step, smeared red droplets were being left in Danny's wake.

"You know where to take them," Spenser noted. He didn't care about their captives or who they were. Not really. He only cared that he had a couple of the Five-0 officers as planned. In the short term, it only mattered that he had a few live birds in hand to play with as he chose. As to their eventual fate though? There would be only one final option and so, that ultimate fate also wasn't something he cared about since it was already preordained.

Therefore, their words, questions or anger meant absolutely nothing as well and he wasn't obligated to provide an answer in kind. But his brain was forever churning and he paused in what had been the lintel to the office. The Commander was in dire straits and yet could still provide a particular purpose to their mission via the sending of a clear message and Spenser chuckled lightly to himself. The noise drew Dylan up short with a hand raised to forestall the rest of their small band.

"Sir?" Dylan asked, familiar with his leader's quirky mannerisms. "What are you thinking?" A small smile played across his lips for the pending announcement. _Like_ typically found _like_ and Dylan was just as evilly spontaneous as Spenser. Especially when it came to not wasting an opportunity and evidently, Spenser had derived something of import.

"Set a charge here in the office. Five minutes. We're going to send a message," Spenser smirked happily with a nod towards his man holding the blonde Five-0 officer because he was their explosives expert and the pack he'd slung over one shoulder help ample supplies. Hands were brusquely changed as the officer was pushed towards another and a brick of C-4 explosive was expertly readied.

"No! You can't!" At the outburst, Spenser's gaze skittered to the man's blue eyes. "You can't do this ... _why_?" While his own expression was one of steady resolve, he was intrigued by the stunned shout and the fear he saw so clearly.

"What do you want? Why are you here ... give us something to work with?" These next anxious questions came from the Asian and Spenser cocked his head curiously. The two were loyal to their leader. It was touching and wholly anticipated. However, he said nothing to either as his man prepped the dangerous device on the top of the Commander's once fine desk.

"Five minutes beginning now, sir," his man announced as the last wires were spliced and the incendiary thumbed on. A small suddenly light glowed brightly and all eyes were drawn to its amber light.

"I guess we'd all better go then," Spenser gestured as his men propelled the officers from the room and away from their downed Commander. He sniffed with amusement as the two began to struggle wildly, each needing two of his own men to maintain control. He quirked an eyebrow at the blonde who fell heavily to his knees in pain when the butt of a weapon met his wounded arm. Blood cascaded even more freely as the officer nearly fainted, gagging and coughing back a surge of nauseating bile from the agonizing display of retribution. Barely on his feet and being roughly dragged, he still continued to put up a fight though, cursing them through each ragged, broken breath.

Under other circumstances, Spenser might have tried to enlist the tenacious man as one of his own. He was a fighter and loyal to a fault; precisely the type of individual which Spenser required serve under his own command. As the man's threats faded while he was physically taken away, Spenser tagged the stalwart attitude as so very noble. After all was said and done though, and their mission accomplished for that day, there was only a brief spark of professional, cold remorse that the officer's fate was already irrevocably sealed. Spenser didn't have time for more than that and he certainly wasn't a romantic when it came to collateral damage.

"Take them down while I make my call," Spenser demanded as he strolled casually behind the group. "You know what to do."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Kono literally held her breath until the men were out of sight. She had to because the itchiness in her throat from dust and stringent odors was almost overpowering her ability to remain quiet. Then, when they were barely just steps away, she bolted towards Steve's office from where she'd been hiding behind the twisted white grill of the large intake to the commercial central air-conditioning unit. Slipping and falling over razor-sharp obstacles, she scraped her hands raw as her mental clock ticked dangerously second by second.

_Five minutes. Less really._

With barely a look at the rectangular block of C-4 or to its timer, she fell to her knees next to Steve. Already unnerved by the overt attack against their offices, Kono couldn't seem to get her brain into a useful gear. On the heels of her terrifying ordeal in the rear stairwell, which had virtually collapsed under her very feet just as she made the landing to their floor, she was stupefied by more explosions which preceded the unanticiapted abduction of her cousin and friend. And now, she was helplessly shell-shocked over how she found her boss.

"Steve?" Kono choked his name out around a harsh cough. He was a bloody mess made worse by smudges of blackened grime, ripped clothing and red-spattered bandages. A once clean, white dressing covered one side of his head and, when she moved his tattered shirt aside, she got a good look at what their attackers had discovered. Steve had also been shot twice and neither wound was minor as blood resolutely continued to leak into reams of medical gauze.

Kono winced as she unconsciously ran her fingers through her hair to force it behind an ear. She had left her long hair down that morning, but the orignal black shine was long gone. Her hair was now filthy and matted with its own tangle of damp blood which left her fingers sickeningly tacky. On the heels of the first explosion, a portion of falling concrete within the stairwell had chipped into her scalp, creating a bloody strip through her hair. Almost knocked senseless by the blow, she'd barely had enough wherewithal to react in secreting herself behind the intake after naively arguing with the emergency door. The only reason she'd even hesitated upon yanking it partly open was due to the sudden cessation of all sound. Only then had she heard the strange voices with their strident orders and realized that she was too close to danger, herself. Seconds later, another incendiary had been intentionally ignited.

_Four minutes._

"Steve? Steve, wake up. Come on, boss." She sternly tapped his cheeks and then slammed her fingers into his carotid artery to be sure he was indeed breathing when he didn't rouse. Her heart was thudding loudly in her own ears, but Steve's pulse was slow and sluggish and Kono swallowed hard to beat back frightening demons when she took in the ever-increasing significance of his many injuries. But she didn't have time to really worry about his wounds and she also couldn't move him alone. Not by herself and her mind reeled at the magnitude of her dilemma as her sense of panic began to escalate.

"Damn it, come on! Steve!"

 _"Hmmm?"_ His confused moan was low and deep at first, compounded by the mere twitch of a finger. This dismal attempt was meant to stop the incessant rapping against his cheek. He wanted to put an end to whomever was trying so hard to bring him closer to the surface where he innately knew that he'd be in incredible agony. Even in his half-state of awareness, his head was painfully muzzy and an uncomfortable pressure ebbed and flowed with each shallow inhale. He kept fading in and out of consciousness which prevented him from even wanting to focus - he only wanted to sleep. However, the external source of pestering was only increasing in its intensity.

 _"S'rong?"_ Steve tried to ask, but his mouth refused to work and all that came out was a puff of air. On one very important level, he knew that something was terribly wrong. Yet, that sad disagreeable twitch of one finger alone had taken a tremendous amount of energy and he practically gave up before he'd even resolved himself to begin. Only his ingrained sense of duty to rally as a soldier antagonized him enough to ignore his physical woes.

 _"Nnn ... hmm..."_ His subsequent moan was resentful, wracked with hurt and even confused when something heavy was laid across his chest. Steve didn't understand what was happening, but the persistent knowledge that something was very, very wrong with his immediate world relentlessly shouted at him from the corner of his mind.

That mental shout became reality and he startled when the gentle taps suddenly altered to an audible slap which stung his cheek and rocked his already aching head to the left.

"Hey!" With that harsh treatment, only then did Kono's voice leak into his growing state of awareness. "Steve. Wake up! Please!"

Kono. Steve finally put a name to the intense flurry of activity taking place around him. Her voice was distant, yet earnest and Steve groaned loudly as he was physically shifted over onto his back. He peeled his eyes partly open as a tac-vest was hastily fastened into place while his hands flopped uselessly to either side of his body. The weight of the protective gear instantly compressed his wounds and he slammed his eyes closed in reaction. Against his will, his next breath was stolen when it hitched deeply in his chest and a new fire erupted through his mid-section.

 _"Stop ... gimme a second,"_ he mentally begged because he couldn't breathe enough to find his voice to explain his needs. Instead of being left alone though, his upper body was purposefully elevated and another flood of mind-numbing pain enveloped his core as he was literally tugged along the floor by the black straps of that very same vest. The embarrassing noise he made came out as a garbled gasp of incoherent sound as his hands weakly searched for purchase.

"Boss, you have to help me out here. There's no time," Kono breathlessly added a plea to each of Steve's pain-riddled mewling noises. "I'm sorry." She was hurting him and still couldn't put a stop to what little progress she'd managed. He was at least waking and she was desperate now for more from him or they'd both be killed.

"Wait," she muttered to herself, hesitating in her quest to gather herself together and to cram the remaining medical supplies back into their case which she then balanced across his chest. If they ever made it to safety, she was certainly going to need as many medical supplies as possible. Only then did she almost accidentally glance to her right to see the discarded weapons and Danny's tac-vest. She needed all of those things too, but almost didn't dare pause again.

_Three minutes._

"Hurry," she chanted to herself. "Hurry!" With a frightened groan for her helpless look at the timer, Kono slammed herself into Danny's vest and slung the closest weapon over her shoulder. Seconds later, she was back to gripping Steve's vest, doing her best to ignore his groans of pain, and pulling backwards with all her might. Despite her best efforts though, she wasn't going to make it even across the lintel. There was no way on earth she could carry Steve across the massive field of debris which they'd be facing in just a few steps.

"Steve, _please_ ," Kono begged in desperation, tears now flooding her eyes to blur her vision. She couldn't do it - she couldn't carry him - but she couldn't just leave him there either. Without even thinking, she pinched him hard in the shoulder, twisting her fingers viciously into his skin. When he burbled in pain and furrowed his brow, she then rudely wedged her fingers under the vest to knuckle what she could reach of his sternum, winning when his eyes finally opened and he offered her some modicum of recognition.

"Thank god! Now get on your feet, Steve!" Kono panted as she used her palm to deliver another rather stunning slap to his cheek. While he seemed to know who she was, his gaze was compeltely unfocused. She needed him aware and listening. "Get up ... do it .. get up right now and help me!"

"H'pned? K'no?" Steve pushed out, his vision blurry as he found her face. He was dizzy, felt incredibly weak and along with his ears, every single part of his body ached with a terrible rhythmic throbbing. He was baffled by the ongoing sting of an abused cheek and he gasped when she placed her nose just inches from his own a millisecond before she pinched him hard once more in the shoulder.

"Kono .. _ow_ .. what?" He gasped and winced at the new burning pain she'd caused him, utterly confused by her frantic expression.

"Help me, boss, we got to move. Now!" She urged, stricken by his abject sense of bewilderment and the volume of true agony he seemed to be experiencing. His face was ashen and he was already covered in a clammy sweat. She prayed she wouldn't hurt him even more by forcing him to his feet, but she'd have to worry about that later. The first key was to survive ... everything after would need to come as it may.

"We only have about two minutes ... there's a bomb," she explained frenetically as she physically began to push and pull him to action. "Stand! Now!"

Refusing to say more, Kono steeled herself to focus all her energy on simply continuing to move the much larger man. Her determination was unyielding as she jammed her hands wherever she could gain leverage and lifted upwards with all her might.

"What .. what're ... you doing?" Steve gasped as bone-deep aches morphed into knife-like pain which riddled his body from his concussed head through to his chest and abdomen. He had no choice as his reflexes kicked in to automatically force his heels to dig into the linoleum. He floundered sloppily until Kono braced him enough where he could find a bit of traction to partially stand with a trembling hand wrapped around what little remained of his doorframe.

"Good, just a bit more," Kono said with some hope as instantly got moving. "Faster ... go faster." They began to make some significant progress now as Steve draped himself over her upper body. He was on his feet and walking, but conquering the debris field was still a critical challenge. It was still a potential impossibility unless Steve could really gain control of his senses and engage his feet to actually work. She groaned in a mix of rage and helpless fear when his knees suddenly sagged and their slim advantage suddenly deteriorated.

"No, _faster_ ," she chanted. "No, no, no! No stopping!" With a hand now fisting the front of the vest by its sturdy neck, Kono rounded on him to get his full attention. "Listen to me! There's a bomb ... there's no time left ... do you understand? Lean on me and let's get out of here!" She was shouting at him, a shake punctuating each of her words and barely registering that he'd managed to nod in vague understanding. "Boss! Move!"

"Bomb ...?" He mumbled as his mind hung onto the word. With a startled more coherent nod of his head, Steve's focused enough to really see her blood-caked hair and dirt smudged face. Her eyes held a deep strain, she was distinctly out of breath and very close to a full-fledged panic. He nodded again and forced his feet forward until he saw what she was wearing. The emblazoned name tag was easy to read even in his concussed state and Steve ran shaky fingers over the white lettering of the tac-vest in bewilderment

_D. Williams. Five-0._

"Why?" He breathed his question out on a soft whisper, his face crinkling in thought as he tried to rationalize why Kono would ever be wearing Danny's protective vest. Because Danny had been there in his destroyed office ... not long ago either ... and with Chin. But their absence at that very moment was well beyond his ability to grasp even though he was positive that they'd both been there at some point.

"Later," Kono replied harshly as she gave him yet another head-rattlingly shake and forced him to walk. "I'll tell you what I know ... later. Walk ... move." Her tone was wrecked with fear and anger, the tone forcing him to automatically reach for her hands.

"What ... the hell ... happened?" Steve groaned as Kono hastily guided him away from the worst of the destruction and towards a distant rear staircase. He tripped and careened sloppily over the uneven floor, barely managing to stay on his feet despite the now debilitating pain which wanted to send him crashing down. The smart table was a tangled mess of tempered glass, wires and metal. The entirety of their central war room no longer existed and was plainly unrecognizable. The distinct stench of metal and burning mechanic odors made the place reek dangerously and he coughed as the rank smells seemed to settle in his nose and throat.

"Where ...," he tried to ask again. "Where ... _where_ are ...?" He was working hard to help and harder still to make his brain kick in. However, he was weakening and Kono wound up dragging him with a purposeful intent.

"Fire exit ... the rear stairwell is completely trashed ... but it's our only chance," Kono's voice was broken and raspy as she breathlessly interrupted him. Her undisguised fear was plapable and growing with every stumbled step as a mental clock ticked to a point of no return and she didn't dare lose their momentum. "We can't get out that way, but we need to hide there until it blows. The fire door is still mostly sound ... and the stairwell ... could be our only chance."

 _One minute._ Maybe less, and Kono nearly fainted at the thought as she unconsciously cringed at the potential strength of the monster at their backs.

Her other arm remained wrapped relentlessly around Steve's middle as she took his weight and then pulled him along despite the pained whimpers which were now escaping his mouth. He was badly injured and Chin or Danny had only done the most basic of triage, but there was still no time to do anything else. In the back of her mind, Kono knew that she might be adding new damage to Steve's battered body as she doggedly persisted in getting them to some form of safety. Nonetheless, _injured_ was far better than ... _dead_ ... and she had no intention of waiting around to see how successful this latest incendiary device might be since the others had been exemplary in their perfection.

Using her shoulder, Kono slammed the emergency door open to push Steve into the stairwell ahead of her. He was barely on his feet and she could feel a wet warmth trickle into her fingers when she hoisted him higher by his belt. He was bleeding even more and the blood was seeping through the hem of his ruined shirt. If she had the luxury of it, she felt like sobbing on the spot as she aimed him for the rear wall.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she carefully positioned him in the farthest corner of the landing. He was already beginning to slide down the wall and so, she went with him, using her hands as gentle guides. Sure now that she'd caused him sort of irreparable damage, she was appalled by each of his erratically panted breaths of foul air which mixed smokey fire and oily chemicals. "Steve. Please hang on. I'm so, so sorry. Rest here ... I'll be right back."

_Seconds. Just seconds left._

Kono steeled herself with her last stray bits of resolve to leave Steve. Her rapid search yielded the success of a heavy piece of metal which she used to wedge the door closed on their side. The hinges were stubborn and the door obstinate, but the piece of pipe seemed to do the trick as they were plunged into a dingy darkness. But she didn't dare celebrate because they had nowhere else to go and zero other options. It simply had to work. Turning back towards Steve, her eyes were large and shiny black in the dark-gray of the undefined muted light which made their immediate world a bland colorless version of black, gray and white.

"Less than a a few seconds now," Kono whispered as she mentally guessed the count remaining on the small timer. "This is going to be ... _big_. We're closer than I'd like and I'm sorry ... it's the best we can do ... I don't know what else to do, Steve."

"It's good," Steve murmured softly as he held one hand up to beckon her to his side. He fought his eyes which were desperate to close, simultaneously queerly enthralled to see that he was shaking so badly and hardly capable of even lifting his arm. Every word was a struggle and he yet he pushed them out with what he hoped was a reassuring smile of approval. "This is good ... you did ... good, Kono."

On the verge of tears, Kono joined Steve on the floor, her arms wrapping carefully around his upper body as they tucked into each other and waited for the inevitable.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

After being intentionally smashed in the arm with the butt of a rifle, the only thing which kept Danny even semi-conscious was his frenetic worry for Steve. The pending storm was soon to descend from overhead and yet, he and Chin were forcibly marched through the tattered remains of their once beautiful office building. Forced to pick their way through scarcely accessible hallways and stairwells, they soon found themselves in the lower sub-basement and pushed into one of their own interrogation rooms.

"You can't ... _you can't_ ... do this," Danny argued through gritted teeth as he continued to put up a fight despite being so easily overpowered and near to collapse. "Stop ... there's still time ... we can ... still go back for him. _Please_!"

Chin was equally problematic for their captors as he twisted his body and dug his feet into anything he could manage to leverage. Their combined crescendo of pleas and struggles continued to escalate until Chin was slashed sideways across the face by the same rifle-wielding man who'd so ruthlessly struck Danny in his wounded arm. Taken by surprise and with his arms bound, Chin careened to the floor, his head reeling and a deep gash appearing just under the line of his cheekbone before blood even had a chance to bubble to the surface.

"You're going to regret this," Chin forced out through damaged lips. "All of you." His words were met with a general feeling of ambivalence though as he was left to roll on the concrete floor, the tannic scent of blood flooding his mouth since he'd bitten his tongue too. He met Danny's stricken expression and then the eyes of one of the dangerous men who intentionally primed his weapon ... not at him ... but towards Danny.

"Fine ... I got it,' Chin muttered resentfully as he didn't resist the hands which hauled him back to his feet. "For now." Their latest message was clear about on thing: if either one of them continued on their current path of resistance, the other would pay the price.

"Please ... you don't have to do this." Danny stared at Chin briefly before breathlessly voicing a desperate appeal to the men, his voice cracking as he tried to reason with their apparent leader or with anyone who might be willing to listen. Steve was upstairs and part of Danny was positive that they still might listen; a portion inside held an incredible amount of hope that someone would be humane enough and hold pity for what was about to happen. "There's ... still a chance. We could get him ... I could get him in time ... then, ... just tell us what you want ... we ..."

"No." With a smug careless shrug, Spencer interrupted the officer's feverish ramblings to casually check the time and shake his head to the contrary. "There's no time left at all," he noted coldly, stalking away as Danny simultaneously and finally completely wilted in his captors' hands. With only seconds to spare now, they'd all made it to the lower level interrogation rooms where they would be buffered from overhead explosion.

And when it finally happened, Danny was jolted as if electrocuted, his head sagging to his chest as he mumbled through a shocked moan of disbelief.

"Steve," Danny barely croaked out his friend's name seconds after he'd been unceremoniously dropped to the hard concrete floor on the opposite side of the room, far away from Chin. Time ... if only he'd had _more time_ to understand the unreasonable.

Physically, he was hurting and already feeling weak; wrung-out and completely drained. Emotionally, he was now beyond devastated and ripped apart on the inside as he failed at wrapping his head around what had just happened. Near to hyperventilating, Danny couldn't even meet Chin's eyes; he just _couldn't_ as he struggled to breathe against a sudden surge of sickening adrenalin, his thoughts solely focused on Steve and how he'd been forced to leave him so very unprotected.

"He never had a chance!" Danny ground out, his voice rising as the obvious leader nonchalantly re-entered the room while blatantly pocketing the cloned cellphone he'd been using. His voice cracked under the strain though, his throat seizing in response to a strangled attempt to control his fitful breathing. But he wanted to kill the man standing in front of him with every fiber of his being.

"You! I want _you_ to know something," Danny promised vehemently. He was panting in earnest now, his face reddened while he fought his body's physical state through each wrecked-sounding word, but a hot rage was growing at an unchecked pace. "I want you to _know_ , that before this is over ... I'm going to kill you."

"Ah! How wonderfully passionate!" Spenser gushed, an impressed chuckle bursting free from deep in his chest. "That's an oftentimes commendable character trait. But sometimes ...," and Spenser bent over at the waist, leaning in closer to Danny's face just as the smile faded and his tone changed to one of dangerous promise. "... it's also a death sentence."

"Danny. I _know_ ... but you need to back off. Danny!" Stunned by what was so obviously happening, Chin could only breathe out his warning as everyone's attention diverted to the verbal altercation which had instantly changed the already poor tenor in the windowless room. Tension inceased exponentially as the leader's soldiers stiffened by learned reaction. Chin had little doubt now that the man in charge was a loose cannon despite their well-planned and orchestrated seige.

"He killed Steve, Chin," Danny ground out in response, his anger knowing no bounds despite the targeted threat aimed solely now at him. His voice was raspy, rough, and he spoke directly into the leader's face as he answered Chin. "He just ... he just plain _murdered_ him in cold blood and ... I want to know why."

"Why?" The chuffed answer held a flicker of amusement which only exacerbated Danny's fury. But before he could open his mouth, a condescending shrug preceded the leader's sharp heel spin as he stalked a few feet away.

"Actually, you'll be very disappointed to know that there's no real reason why," Spenser replied easily, a subtle tilt to his head communicating to his second that he might share some limited information that would further brutally toy with their captives' minds. He was annoyed and relatively uninterested in the officer's overly emotional reaction. But in silent response, when Dylan chuckled softly while he blatantly folded his arms comfortably over his chest as sign of his approval, Spenser opted to continue.

"Just know this ... no matter what your people offer me or try to negotiate, you're all simply pawns on a game board. Each of you is being used and it amuses me no end that your _friends_ outside ... don't know that quite ... _yet_ ...and so, I get to control every single one of their moves. I'm practically spoon-feeding them right now and they don't even realize it because, like you, they think that your friend's death means something of import. But they're never going to find me or any of my men in some large database of cold case files where they can analyze our personas and motivation _ad nauseam_ ... because, Sir, none of us exists."

The resulting silence was markedly long and sadistically satisfying for Spenser as he watched both Five-0 men mull over the meaning of his statement. He found himself being inordinately pleased when it was the blonde detective who'd correctly reasoned out the crux of his point.

"This was never about Five-0," Danny paused before he spoke. By the time he finished speaking, his voice was ending on a raspy whisper. "He ... he was hurt ... innocent in all of this. But ... so ... _why_ ... do you know what you just did? Do you even know who he ... was?"

"Oh, I always do my pre-work well in advance of an important mission. So yes, I do know precisely what I did, Detective Williams," Spenser grinned gleefully once more, sharing a bemused smile with Dylan, who was now lounging indulgently against a wall with a booted foot braced comfortably behind him. "The unfortunate death of one Lieutenant-Commander Steven J. McGarrett, ex-Navy SEAL, will make ... no, I digress... undoubtedly has made ... a most wonderfully contrived statement ... a senseless one in the grander scheme of things of course, ... but still, it was thoroughly ... _entertaining_."

"Entertaining?" Danny's voice broke entirely then. "You ... this ... _all of this ._.. killing an innocent man ... was a diversion?"

His eyes sparkled dangerously and they conversely welled with tears. Danny shook his own head when further thought failed him completely. Steve's death meant nothing - his _death_ had been absolutely for nothing except for the pure enjoyment of one sadistic man. In that instant, his rage diminished as his vision faded and blood rushed noisily to his ears. Danny couldn't breathe and he wasn't even sure he could hear anymore as the room blinked out of existence.

In that moment, _Danny_ literally blinked out of being because he felt as if he was bonelessly floating outside his body. There was no reason or purpose - there was nothing but a black soundless void - what was happening _wasn't real_ ; none of it could really be _happening_ because it just wasn't ... _fair_.

 _"Hey! Wake up!_ " The overly loud shout was meant for him as the bony part of his shin was purposefully kicked with a steel-toed boot. The sharpness of the pain brought Danny crashing back to earth, compounded by an equally concerned bellow from Chin.

_"Danny! Danny ... open your eyes! Look at me! Danny!"_

Barely conscious, Danny groaned out loud as he heaved in a juddering breath of air into starved lungs, wondering when his eyes had closed. At first, he was confused and unable to figure out where he was or understand what had just happened. But seconds later, he'd come full circle to one terrible truth: Steve had been murdered for nothing by a crazed psychopath. Danny panted harshly, air not actually filling his lungs as he lay loosely sprawled on his right shoulder. He had slid down the wall to be practically on his side, facing away from Chin who was still frantically calling out his name. Danny tried to look up to offer a brief reassurance, but failed miserably when his neck refused to cooperate. He just couldn't find enough strength to care, and so he closed his eyes in order to settle morosely on the basic but most monumental task of allowing air to whisper tiredly into his lungs.

"I need to take care of him," Chin's voice rang out from the farthest corner of the room and Spenser turned, a curious expression laced across his face for the oddity of the interruption and the almost ludicrous nature of the demand.

"What?" Spenser raised his brow as he deigned to share his attention with the second of his two captives.

The Asian officer was as upset as the blonde detective, yet he was in slightly better control of his emotions and certainly in a better physical condition. Though his cheek was a blackish-purple and blood beaded on his skin, the officer merely swallowed hard before nodding towards his weakening peer. There was certainly no lack of sadness in his eyes nor pain evident by the manner in which he held his head, however there was also a strong concern being expressed.

"His arm. He's going into shock and he's bleeding badly. I'd like to at least try and stop the blood loss," Chin said. "Please. I need a few minutes to help him."

"Really." Spenser grinned in disbelief, a sidelong glance aimed again at his second where a private conversation briefly shaped his pending answer. Neither cared per se, but unless it was specifically Spenser's own edict, losing one of the remaining two hostages so prematurely would truly be problematic to their cause. Without addressing the Asian, Spenser narrowed his eyes at one of his other men and gave a curt nod. His only command was incredibly simple, yet deadly if there should be a failure.

"Kill him if he tries anything." His circumspect nod was then for the injured detective and it easily relayed the same message to the Asian officer who's handcuffs were moved from back to front. He'd remained cuffed and have to cope with limited movement. If he should try anything, his young blonde friend would die regardless.

"Danny?" Chin didn't try to whisper as he anxiously reached Danny's side. There was no need with a gun rocked to the back of his skull and another aimed directly at Danny's temple. Soft speech was also impossible with the way his face had already painfully swelled. Swallowing repetitively to offset the raggedness of his tongue, Chin gently dabbed at the blood streaking down his lip before focusing completely on Danny.

"Hey, _brah_ ...I need to check you out." There was no reply or even the slightest hints of acknowledgements though as Chin gently repositioned Danny to a more comfortable seated position with his back against the wall. "Danny?"

With a worried sigh, Chin stayed on his knees, managing well enough with the minimal medical essentials given to him and despite his bound hands. He didn't know what else to say though as Danny's eyes remained closed and a weary tear had the gall to break free from his lashes. A sporadic tremble wracked his slouched frame over and over while he seemed to struggle around each shallow inhale. The ashen pallor seemed permanent, and when Chin palmed Danny's cheek and then his neck, he was desperate for the cold clammy texture he could feel.

"This may hurt, but I have to stop the bleeding," Chin mumbled senselessly. He was unsurprised when Danny said nothing in response. He, too, couldn't believe what these men had done to Steve. He also didn't even dare breathe Kono's name. Chin could only pray that his cousin, who had gone for a late morning coffee run, had still been safely outside the building when the first incendiary had been deployed.

"I have to rip your shirt," Chin said. Sharp objects had been removed from the kit leaving him no option but to use his fingers to tear away the rest of Danny's shirt from his shoulder down to his elbow. After being so violently grabbed and then intentionally battered by the butt of a weapon, the flesh was hot, swollen and torn around what had been a single narrow hole. Only after removing the shirt sleeve, did Chin realize what Danny already knew: regardless of the additional damage, the bullet was embedded in bone.

"Shit," Chin whispered then, his concern rising tenfold as he carefully stuffed gauze into the wound in an attempt to stem the stubbornly bleeding wound. He packed it well, knowing that he was hurting Danny. Nonetheless, Danny didn't move, nor did he truly seem to care about the pain that he had to have been experiencing as Chin tightly wound reams of more white gauze around his upper bicep. Blood instantly pinked the wrappings and Chin inhaled harshly as the stain continued to ooze into the white. "This is bad, _brah_."

However, that was as far as he got as he was yanked harshly to his feet. Only then did Danny's eyes snap open in alarm, his own surprised sound gurgling in his throat as Chin's presence left his side.

"It's alright," Chin murmured reassuringly as their eyes met and Danny half-tried to move in startled reaction. "Relax, Danny. It's okay." What he was saying couldn't be further than the truth though. "It's fine. _We're fine._ "

The same gun remained pressed into the side of his head and Chin silently nodded, presenting his wrists for what he knew their captors would do next. The click was loud as one wrist was freed, yet Chin simply put his arms behind his back where that same click sounded home once more. Seconds later, he was escorted back to the opposite side of the room where he slid down the wall to sit with every appearance of being calm, yet his heart was beating wildly inside his chest.

What Chin read in Danny was a mix of wild emotional anxiety and he didn't quite know what to do with it. Danny's eyes were wracked with grief and a devastating pain, yet a desperation lived inside them, too. An almost manic sense of anguish which was still translating into a rage which knew no return as Danny stared defiantly into the face of the leader.

"Just remember," Danny murmured in a monotone. "I _am_ ... going to kill ... you."

"Danny," Chin hissed in warning as the man's shoulders stiffened anew. "No ... stop."

"Oh, but he should continue." The leader argued almost too softly. His rejoinder to the challenge made Chin's blood run cold as Danny once more ignored his entreaty to remain quiet.

"You're a dead man," Danny whispered harshly.

"Oh, how I do enjoy you so very much," Spenser grinned down at Danny, though his eyes were dangerously backlit. "Stubborn to a fault." The officer's bloodless lips had thinned in determination and then Spenser had to laugh. He chuckled as he embraced what would be a hopeless tilting at windmills for the true undying spirit which the detective clearly embodied.

"Sir." Spenser snapped a sternly correct militaristic salute down towards Danny, his display of mirth easily igniting his second's intrigued smile. "It will be a true shame to lose such a warrior soul."

Shattered by the ruthless actions being committed against them, Danny stared incomprehensibly up at the arrogant leader until his eyes had to close from fatigue and emotional stress. He didn't care what the lunatic had to say and he found the snapped salute to be the complete mockery of which it was meant to be. With every careful inhale, his arm was on fire, the pain radiating deeply into his shoulder bone and down to his elbow. He was nauseous, beyond cold and trembling from never-ending volumes of emotional and physical strain. Then, being cuffed so severely only made matters worse as he began to fail at coping.

"Can't you take his cuffs off?" Chin suddenly asked on Danny's behalf. His question breaking the tableau and providing a brief respite. "At least move his arms to the front and give him some water. He's really not doing well."

Danny slowly peeled his eyes back open to stare stupidly at his friend. It was as if Chin had just read his mind. Other than his cautious slouch back to the right, he didn't think he'd communicated any signs about his discomfort. But he couldn't see what Chin had noticed in his ashen complexion or the way a sheen of cold sweat had begun to leak into the neck of his dress-shirt. Danny wanted to object and declare that he was quite fine, instead he rolled his eyes to the leader's broad back and waited for what he knew would be a dissatisfying answer.

"No," the leader of the small band blandly stated. "He gets nothing."

For all intents, Spenser was suddenly very intensely distracted and missed the raw anger he'd sparked in the Asian. Lips pursed and in deep thought, he was checking his watch with a military diligence. A particular feeling of anticipation was mounting through his men, too. All eyes were trained on him as, every so often, he'd stroll from the interrogation room feasibly to make a call to HPD or SWAT, or even to some other currently unknown _associate_.

"It's time," Spenser announced suddenly. "We're in the clear."

Scarcely thirty minutes after taking refuge in the interrogation room, the Five-0 men were being jerked to their feet with the utterance of that single comment. The leader's coy smile communicated a particular pleasure and a confidence with seemed unbridled. Even the small team was eager and suddenly shaking off their boredom as adrenalin made them all antsy. "Ready … as per our plan?"

"Always. The final battery of charges have been set, sir, and each is primed," one man noted with a sly nod. He'd set incendiaries throughout the lower sub-levels, including the parking garage well before even the first charge had been set off. Days earlier in fact. Now, it was just a matter of manually engaging each by remote.

"Stick to the primary plan and synchronize to the rendezvous point. Disposal will be managed prior to the last step," Dylan reminded his team, a sickly gleeful look aimed first at Chin and then towards Danny, who was braced relentlessly between two men. "If anything goes wrong … you know the options."

"Disposal? Chin …?," Danny asked, alarm in his voice as their captors split into two groups to take each of them in entirely different directions. The calculated move was completely unprecedented. Danny's knees buckled as two pairs of hands roughly pulled him to his feet, fingers connecting with the bullet wound in his arm hard enough to trigger a resurgence of crippling pain and a surge of nausea which made him gag. Unable to help himself, Danny's head dropped unwilling to his chest as he took anxiously panted breaths through his nose to forestall an actual need to vomit on the spot as the world spun dizzyingly around him.

"Hey … _wait_!" He moaned as he was forced to find his footing and when he failed, was easily carted along. " _Chin_?"

"Listen," Chin was equally as stunned as he was hustled away from Danny, concern for his injured friend skyrocketing as he watched Danny get hoisted into the air between two of the militants. Nothing had made sense as the men had voiced little in the form of demands. Now, they were simply coordinating what appeared to be a tactical contingency … with nothing in hand except for Danny and himself. Yet based upon what had been shared, they were very expendable and soon to be very short-lived hostages.

"Danny! Chin shouted louder, digging his heels into the floor uselessly as he was torn away. "Stop! This is insane!"

Instead, of heeding Chin's desperate pleas though, the two newly defined groups ignored him in lieu of separating him from Danny ... permanently.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter Five **

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Loathe to open his eyes, Steve groaned as the concussive blast seemed to encase and then resonate within the small space where he and Kono were hunkered down. Though they were somewhat buffered, the noise from the explosion and its resultant wave managed to reach them. It vibrated painfully through his already damaged body with unbridled cruelty. It completely overrode his ability to focus on where Danny or Chin might be and he even forgot the other disconcerting questions he needed to ask Kono. Like, _why was she wearing Danny's tac-vest_ and more importantly, _where would he have gone without his protective gear if they were under fire? What the hell had Danny and Chin been thinking in the first place, to leave if they were under attack?_

But their current circumstances only allowed one question to roll repetitively around in his head: _what in the hell was going on?_

Minutes passed as their wing of the building continued to shake and debris rained down anew from above, while the very core of the stairwell swayed as if it might detach itself from its once sturdy anchor.

What seemed like hours passed before a strange quiet settled once more around them and still, they were both uncertain about moving. Steve groaned in pain because he couldn't fight his urges to cough as grayish dust billowed, eventually coating and clinging to his skin and clothing. Each cough rattled his head and created a knife-like ripple of pain across his abdomen. Steve kept his eyes closed while he weakly cataloged the now fiery pains which lanced through his body.

His ears hadn't recovered from his first experience and now they were ringing incessantly all over again. Then there was the issue of his head injury which was being outdone only by the crippling ache though his chest and abdomen. Slouched against Kono, in reality she was virtually holding him up. Each thickly-filled stagnant breath of fouled air was a calculated exercise in how much pain he could tolerate. Steve was badly injured and knew it as his chest hitched reluctantly with the shallow, oxygen-deprived inhales he managed to wheeze past his partially opened lips. This was proof enough that they'd have to eventually move in order to get out of the now claustrophobic and dust-filled stairwell for better air.

"K'no ...," Steve rasped on a weak exhale, her name fractured by a weaker cough. His voice was barely more than a moaned whisper of sound. Steve's head had fallen to her shoulder and he lacked the strength to even try and shift. But through that connection, he couldn't only feel the ragged rise and fall of her own breathing, but also the quiver of her arms as she held onto to him like a lifeline.

"Just ... give it another ...minute," Kono whispered brokenly, easily guessing his wishes. The gun she'd secured was still in her hands and she felt a bit safer. However, her ears felt funny and somewhere along the way she'd lost the medical kit. Steve sounded far away and her voice was echoing in her head as if she were under water or had the nastiest of flu's. She was exhausted, shattered really, and yet gamely trying to keep her wits as her own throat seized around the clots of dust floating so cloyingly in the air. The reality was, that they didn't have another minute in the stairwell, so she carefully untangled herself from Steve, a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him propped against the wall.

"Stay put," she said, but he shook his head, gesturing adamantly that she needed to help him up. However, Kono could only manage one thing at a time, and she could barely manage herself. She had Steve to worry about, then she was on edge about a few critical other things before they could simply leave their hiding place. "No, boss, seriously. Let me make sure I can get the door opened first."

That feat was truly the first step as she examined the now very crooked metal bar she'd shoved into place while Steve resentfully slumped back to a seated position. The bar had done its job well, but it was wedged so tightly, Kono at first couldn't get it to move. Only a few well-placed kicks sent it finally clanging away, allowing the door to swing partially open almost naturally once it was freed.

"Wow," Kono whispered under her breath when she cautiously opened the door the rest of the way to survey what was left of their wing of the second floor. Though there was a sickly odor of burning wood, gunpowder and chemicals, generally the air was amazingly more fresh. In a way, almost too naturally crisp as a fresh breeze ruffled a few strands of her hair. Remnants of office papers were fluttering through the air or straying sloppily over the floor and Kono didn't understood why that might be until she took a few steps forward.

"Oh my god," she choked out as she finally realized what she was seeing. Nothing obstructed her view across the expanse of what had once been their tidy war room. In fact, there was nothing preventing her from seeing the greenery that typically swayed outside the large window of Steve's office. Except this time she'd be able to touch it because Steve no longer had an office. An incredibly large gaping hole replaced what had once been that very same window and that impressive hole was allowing the breeze to blow in from outside.

Kono took a few hesitant steps forward. Her legs were leaden, but her goal was to clear the room even though it was likely that no one would be coming back. She didn't dare make any assumptions about the job she needed to do. Too many odd things had happened that day and she wasn't about to take any chances - not a single one. A movement caught her eye at the very last moment and she did a double-take, a small gasp escaping her lips. With her ears still a bit deafened, she never quite heard the whirring sound and almost made a tragic mistake when the drone appeared as if by magic. Kono stumbled to a halt at the foot of the broken smart table, at once swinging the rifle off her shoulder while she backpedaled the way she'd come. Her eyes widened in shock as the drone hovered daringly outside the large open expanse, brilliantly backlit by the beautiful sunny afternoon. It hovered, poised, until it simply flew inside.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her eyes showing an uncharacteristic terror as she froze between it and the opened emergency door. She watched as its mechanical eye began its studied survey, constantly moving to and fro within Steve's ruined office once, whomever manned it, saw no apparent obstructions or reasons to be cautious. With her fear growing the more it paced, Kono watched pensively as the machine paused by the now fully destroyed couch ... and she knew.

Kono _knew_ that they were looking for Steve's remains and a new anger finally surged forward. In reality though, there was nothing she could do since any action inside the office would tip off their attackers. Technically, she and Steve were already trapped and they didn't need to bring more trouble down upon themselves. Just as bad, they could prompt some sort of retribution against either Chin or Danny. So Kono understood those truths, too, as she held her gun resolutely in sweaty fingers and wondered what might happen next. The office was truly demolished, as was every piece of furniture. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to feel that a human might also have met a similar fate under the rubble. Tears rolled freely down her face at the realization, along with a new certainty that these so-called _people_ were incredibly evil. They wanted to see .. they wanted proof to be certain that they'd done their job.

"Go," she whispered desperately. Her eyes flit from left to right as the drone moved in a searching pattern. There'd be no body to find; no gore. No grisly remains and she didn't know what to expect as the mechanical search continued. Kono could only pray that the sheer breadth of destruction would be proof enough.

"Go ... get out of here ... think he's gone. Please ... just... believe he's _gone_."

Her private standoff was then a silent one as she watched the drone continue to hover inside Steve's office. The mechanical eye swept the area diligently and stopped within the doorframe to record other views. For whatever reason, its remote pilot didn't demand that it to go beyond the twisted frame of the lintel though. Whoever _they_ were wanted to confirm that they'd killed the Five-0 commander. Their sickness was their need to actually look inside the mangled office itself and Kono felt the bile rising in her throat.

"What the hell is that?" Steve's voice hushed in her ear and Kono jolted badly at the shock. He'd gotten up without her help and was now standing virtually on her heels, blinking crazily against the brighter light of the room and wincing as blackish sparkles of light seemed to simultaneously make his stomach clench. His next inhale strangled in his throat as he fought not to cough or make any type of sound to draw attention their way.

"Quiet. Drone," she murmured while sidling backwards to keep him stationary. "Wait." The two of them stood together, Steve propped in the doorway and unmoving except for a need to use one hand to brace himself against Kono's shoulder. After a long moment, the drone rose even higher and Steve's hand automatically squeezed around Kono's shoulder in warning. She raised her gun, took aim and waited though her brain thought it still folly to shoot. But if it did see them and broadcast that fact, then she'd have to defend their position regardless. However, there was no need to do anything for its hover was disrupted by a grand swooping move and it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived.

Kono slumped dizzily, using the back of her hand to wipe fresh tears from her face. She was stunned that their attackers had felt a need to be sure, and she felt that point to be rather disturbing. A desire to potentially see gruesome remains proved a morbid curiosity and Kono shivered - these very same people had her cousin and Danny.

"They have them," Steve said just as she'd finished her personal musings. His announcement was voiced slowly, as if a tiny sliver of understanding had leaked into his muzzy brain. A word popped into his mind. Something Chin had said and Steve grimaced when Kono turned towards him and he remembered again that she was wearing Danny's protective vest. "Hostiles. Danny and Chin were here ... and now ... they were taken."

"There were too many and I couldn't do anything about it," Kono replied, more tears tightening her throat in remorse. "I'm not sure where they went, but my best guess is the sub-basement level. There's access to rear exits and the interrogation rooms are reinforced concrete. None of these incendiaries will have touched them down there."

"Yeah," Steve grunted in agreement. He wasn't only fighting to stay on his feet, he was also fighting with himself to remember. Nonetheless, if Kono had attempted to intervene, the outcome would feasibly have been much worse. Their adversaries were a well-oiled machine and injuries not withstanding, his entire team was greatly out-gunned. The concept of using the sub-basement was actually intelligent even though at first blush it might sound like they'd walled themselves in. Except, if someone knew the building, that was far from being the case since there were decent opportunities to exit, including access to the multi-story parking garage.

"I don't know what they want," Kono admitted, her comment neatly terminating Steve's need to ask what else she might be aware of. "They've pretty much destroyed the place. But it's methodical and it feels like they're playing some kind of sick game."

"Need to find out," Steve murmured wearily. "Need more intel." He was tired and finding it incredibly difficult to focus with his head throbbing around such a relentless pressure. He was missing major bits and pieces about what had happened that day. Then, there was the fiery burn deep inside his core. So deep, he wasn't precisely sure where it was centered and it dampened his ability to concentrate. He needed to sit down and think up a plan, but he suddenly didn't even know how to just fold his legs.

"Kono," Steve started to speak and then sloppily thumbed the velcro on the vest which she had fastened over his chest. It was hot, restrictive and pressing terribly on his wounds, but he needed to think. He had people missing and he needed to do something constructive. "We should ... both Chin ... Danny ... need to get them out of there. Give HPD and SWAT a chance to ... step in. End ... this."

"Okay, Steve," Kono answered as he swayed where he stood, lock-kneed and pale. Her concern for him spiked when his voice faded on the few stammered commands. Gently, she tilted his chin up and winced when his eyes refused to track followed by a deep pain-filled furrowing of his brow. Under the grime, his entire face was creased in discomfort. "I'll do what I can. But first, why don't you let me help you get off your feet?"

With her resolve firmly back in place, Kono carefully wrapped her arms around his middle. She staggered and yet held Steve's weight as he almost bonelessly draped his entire upper body over her shoulders. Broken apologies were muttered around his whimpers of pain and Kono cringed for him as she began a short stumbled walk towards a spot she considered relatively safe and protected from unwanted visitors.

"Go. Find more out ... about Danny ... and Chin," Steve murmured as she carefully eased him down. He blinked owlishly into her face, confused by the sympathy in her eyes and yet buoyed by the determined set of her jaw. She was on her game and would take care of things.

"Okay, boss. But you first," Kono softly agreed, pleased when he seemed to willingly relax. What he'd stated should have been an order, but Kono had no plans to budge that far from his side after he repeated himself. In reality, he didn't know what he was suggesting. His lapse in judgement was telling, so now, there was only the issue of Steve himself. She had her own proof about the seriousness of his injuries which necessitated that he be her immediate priority. Upon uttering these last few comments, his eyes had now completely closed. A subtle tremble was running through his body and he'd begun to breathe more erratically than even previously within the stairwell.

"Steve?" Kono called softly to him, her fingers grasping his wrist to anxiously check his pulse. "Boss?" His eyes stayed closed though as he fell into a deeper lethargy. His brief rally was officially over and he'd expended any and all of his remaining strength. Kono had limited resources and no functional ability to find her team-mates. Therefore, only Steve could logically be Kono's immediate priority and she needed to find a way to get him help.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

They had all escaped the footprint of the Palace long ago, but under the cover of synchronized explosions where he'd been intentionally exposed to gunfire due to his lack of protective gear. Like he'd been told, he was nothing more than a pawn. He'd also felt the blast concussions along with the chaos of those this unknown war had been so terribly inflicted upon. Now, their getaway vehicles were being changed out so frequently, Danny lost count. He also lost his sense of direction. It was all he could do to remain vaguely alert to not trip over his own two feet as he was hustled from one car or truck to another seemingly without rhyme or reason. Though by then, Danny knew that nothing was by chance. Unless of course, the leader of the band was in the mood for bit of diversionary … amusement. In fact, Danny had been bitten by the viper again by accidentally looking at a snippet of a televised feed before realizing what it was.

 _"I'm not sure an interior designer is going to do the trick this time,"_ Spenser actually giggled as he shoved the tablet under Danny's nose. The view of Steve's office from the terrible perspective of outside looking in, minus its large glass window, took a moment to sink into Danny's muddled mind. They'd sent the drone back up for a sadistic look at the destruction ... to look at Steve.

 _"You're a sick, sick man,"_ Danny had murmured. Yet, he too, had been unable to look away. He'd been completely unable to close his eyes or stop himself from searching the devastation for an arm or even a leg. Anything. All he could see though was the ripped and hanging ceiling tiles or, the smoldering material of the sofa or, the pieces of kindling which had once been Steve's beautiful desk. But there was no obvious sign of what had once been the man, himself.

 _"Hmm,"_ Spenser said thoughtfully as he challenged Danny's jibe by intentionally replaying the short video clip. _"There doesn't seem to be much left at all."_

For Danny, the images of Steve's office were now frozen in time. Locked forever in his brain and he couldn't stop the loop. Worse yet, Danny knew what the leader meant by his last remark, too. But that didn't mean there was a hidden blessing or a silver lining in the tragedy because a body wasn't visible. None of that mattered one bit to Danny because his only response to what he'd unwittingly been coerced into viewing was the gentle thud of his head against the darkened window of the car he'd been forced into.

After watching the video and listening to the inappropriately happy banter amongst his captors, he'd mentally checked out; he couldn't help it as the pain in his shoulder became a dull ache and eventually his arm went entirely numb along with his mind. And that numbing became Danny's only blessing as his eyes closed and his body rocked in time to the motion of the latest getaway car. He zoned out completely between the short jump of trips only vaguely rousing when made to move from one vehicle to another.

So for a long time, he never noticed what was happening. Plus it was occurring with such subtlety, Danny didn't notice a thing had changed until six became four and that fourth man simply disappeared. One by one, the mercenaries had been peeling off from the main contingent with an astute precision.

"This is our last ride together," Spenser informed Danny once he'd eased himself next to him in the rear of the beat-up van. The dingy logo said that they were for hire as house painters making the truck a nondescript blot of commercialism which almost everyone would ignore on the highway. "We soon will lose one in order to gain my second once his team reaches their final destination. Then, we wait a few hours … afterwards, we all part ways, Detective."

"You didn't need to kill him," Danny mumbled thickly. He was incredibly exhausted now and losing faith that either he or Chin might be rescued. They'd been on the move for hours. As time ticked by and the mood around him remained so highly elevated, Danny became more reticent and resigned to what was soon to happen. He was tired, depressed and still beside himself with about the sheer depths of how their day had gone so badly sideways. "You didn't need to kill … any of us."

"My, but you are a bellicose sort, aren't you?" Spenser poked back acid-tongued, yet enjoying the ongoing banter no matter his captive's increasing level of distress. "Such a complainer … are you ever happy about anything, Detective Williams?"

"I'd be happy if you could just curl up and die," Danny replied, his voice dry and rubbed raw with emotion. He swallowed hard, but had no moisture left in his mouth so, what he said next, was scarcely above a hoarse whisper. But the leader could still easily hear him and he was already smiling. "Thrilled. Ecstatic, in fact, if the earth just opened up and swallowed you whole. Go back to Hell ... where you came from. "

Danny saw the aggravating grin even though his eyes were barely focusing now. He was still finding the occasional way to continue with his barbed comments. The issue was that his adversary was clearly enjoying it ... and Danny only hated the man more.

"So acerbic, Danny." Spenser smirked before dropping his lips into what seemed like a sneer. "I like it, but you need to get over things ... learn how to move on and stop being so damned sensitive."

Spenser missed the way Danny cringed at his words when he snapped his fingers rudely towards one of his men. What he'd seen instead was the way detective's eyes had closed as dry cough after dry cough rattled the officer's chest. Spenser wound up growling at himself for what would be an odd moment of kindness after such hostility as a water bottle was slapped into his hand.

Danny instantly tried to resist when he felt the warmth of the man's fingers on his neck. He convulsed away, arms trapped and shivering as his head was relentlessly pulled forward. "Get ... off," he murmured, his eyes flying back open as he was tugged again.

"Don't be stupid. Drink," the leader demanded, persistent as he dribbled water slowly into Danny's mouth. "It's just water, Danno."

He swallowed reflexively, coughing again as small sips soothed his throat until he realized what he'd been called. He sputtered in shock, coughing and trying to pull back to object the use of his nickname. But the large hand only tightened around his neck to hold him in place, forcing him to drink more until he literally gagged.

"Don't call me that .. you don't have the right," Danny snarled through a spat of reactive tears after the bottle was finally pulled away. He heaved while trying to get his breathing back under control, shaking his head in a vain attempt to get the man to remove his hand which so sternly continued to embrace the back of his neck. He couldn't stop thinking though ... frantic that so much more could be known about his family. About Grace; but no, he had to be wrong. _Not Grace._ He couldn't mean ... his _daughter_. But how would he have known then? How could he ever have found out his special nickname ... but from _Grace_?

"You wound me, sir, " Spenser grinned about even needing to be granted rights. Any rights, as his thumb traced the soft space between Danny's ear and down to his collarbone. He watched in amusement when Danny finally registered the repetitive motion, a delayed reaction making him flinch and shy away as if hot-branded. Spenser wouldn't say more though; sharing more or confessing how he'd learned the special name would ruin the fun and it was much more entertaining to toy and tease.

Instead, he snorted softly before he finally released his fingers from Danny's neck to mock-dab moisture from the corner of his eye. "But I know you don't want to just _wound_ me … you actually promised to kill me."

"You hang on to that promise," Danny said quietly, shifting as far away from the man as he could possibly get while trapped. "Both hands." He was breathing erratically though. Sweat slicked his face to collect at the juncture of his neck where it slowly leaked into the thin material of his shirt. Danny's heart was pounding wildly inside his chest while he tried to understand the truth of things.

He coughed again, his throat now tight for an entirely new reason, but he was sticking to one clear promise. "You better hang onto it ... because, when it's time ... I'm going to make it count."

"You can try, _Danno_ ," Spenser assured him as he gently rocked into Danny's right shoulder as if they were the best of friends sharing the most intriguing of secrets. "You certainly can try."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	7. Chapter 7

 

**Chapter Seven**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

She was sitting on the fourth step she'd managed to clear from debris, eyes closed and breathing hard through the material she had covering her nose and mouth. Steve was upstairs and exactly where she'd left him not less than thirty minutes earlier. Still unconscious, his wounds were still sluggishly bleeding despite the bandages she'd added to complement what had been first used to dress them.

With nothing to do but worry and try to dig a way out, Kono's scalp wound had begun to make itself known. Either that, or it was the stress of needing to keep going not only for Steve, but for Chin and Danny. Not knowing about either of them was slowly killing her step by dusty step. Her gloved hands hung limply between her knees, sagging along with her neck which was bringing her chin nearly to her chest. Her rifle was slung over one shoulder, but her now friendly metal pipe, which made for an excellent crowbar, sat propped sturdily against her hip.

So, Kono was in the stairwell and just sitting there when it happened. The faint rumble vibrated first through the soles of her feet. Her head snapped up at the odd sensation, and she held her breath, truly afraid as another rumble followed less than twenty seconds later.

"What are they doing?" She murmured to herself, eyes wide once more as she got to her feet. The sounds were distant but certainly close enough. She scowled as a third went off, automatically ticking the seconds in her head to prove that each was a synchronized event. Knowledge which did nothing for her terrible thoughts about her cousin or Danny.

"They're leaving," Kono stated, her eyes widening as that certainty settled inside her mind with an incredible clarity. She turned on her heel then, the rifle thumping against her back as she ran up the short flight through the space of the narrow path she'd managed to clear. Once through the door to their floor, she sped past Steve to look out across the expanse of the complex from her safest vantage point. She couldn't see much, but what she did finally confirmed her assessment. A smokey haze was rising from the parking area parallel to the lowest floors of the Palace. HPD, SWAT and other first responders had split ranks. Some remaining to retain the current perimeter, while others re-deployed to the new zone.

They were leaving and what they'd done was orchestrate the perfect ploy. Divide and conquer. Separate and divide. "Damn them!" Kono shouted, her frustration at being trapped and unable to help rising to the top. She could see what was happening with her birds' eye view and could do nothing about it. She was sick as she first one and then a second vehicle leave though the diversion. Two unrecogniable shapes lurked on the outskirts; too elevated above the action to be part of the good guys and Kono watched in disbelief as they vanished from her sight on the heels of one final explosion. They were like ghosts and had never been seen by anyone of import.

"Damn ... damn them!" Kono roughly ran her fingers through her hair, ignoring the way she accidentally hit the painful crease on her head. She didn't spend time spinning in place though wondering what to do. There was only one thing to continue as she virtually stalked back the way she'd come. This time though, she stopped long enough by Steve to tweak the emergency blanket she'd found up around his shoulders. He was unconscious and still shivering, and by the look on his face, also in a great deal of pain.

"Hey boss," she whispered, her attitude changing entirely as she gently sketched a finger near his head to smooth a portion of the bandage. "Soon ... I promise... I'm going to get you out of here and you'll feel so much better. Then ... we'll get them back."

Over an hour later, shouts could be heard from the opposite side of the landing and Kono sighed in relief when she distinctly recognized a familiar male voice. Sergeant Duke Lukela was leading the charge to rescue them and Kono couldn't have been happier.

"Here!" She hollered loudly. "We're in here! Duke!" She fought the destruction to help them reach her, hope in her eyes fading quickly after Duke's sorrowful admission.

"Steve's hurt. He's upstairs and we need to get him out of here now. But tell me ... did you get any of them?" Kono clasped his hand, pulling him over the last mound of debris and making room for three other HPD officers who were followed by a pair of medics and three members of the Army National Guard.

"Danny and Chin … are they alright?" Kono asked as she made even more room for the now growing ranks of support.

"No. We didn't get anyone. Not a single one and I just don't understand it," Duke replied, the stress of the day clearly showing on his face. He had a host of injured officers to contend with and a continuing amount of utter chaos on his hands. He didn't even know how to explain to her that none of them knew either Danny or Chin had been abducted until they were employed as human shields.

Until then, their negotiator had been so very positive of a successful outcome. They'd been talking to the man in charge and supposedly set to task on working through certain demands ... all of which were apparently for nothing. His head was now spinning because they'd been so badly played. And while the National Guard's appearance provided instantaneously relief to bolster their numbers, the FBI had spontaneously on their doorstep. Arguments had begun nearly at once regarding control of the scene and he'd little time or patience for which of the authoritarian factions might own what. He merely wanted his people and his o'hana accounted for and safely home.

"We're in the dark and practically dead in the water. The Governor's declared a State of Emergency and the National Guard are here, and offering support. Everyone's on high alert and assisting," Duke explained. Desperate to find words, he ran his hand over his face, exhaustion and anger warring with each other.

"But Kono, we don't know where Chin and Danny are … whoever these people are ... they're all gone … they're all just … _gone_."

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Steve roused many hours later in the hospital and he couldn't remember a waking ever being so ... god awful. The experience was a dizzying kaleidoscope of white noise and too many colors which immediately twisted his stomach and made his head pound. Good stuff. Why wasn't he on the good stuff? He moaned, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment while forcing himself to take stock of each limb and the dull ache emanating from not only his abdomen now, but near his lower back. Very close to his hip.

"Steve?" Kono's questioning voice teased his eyes back open.

"Hey?" Steve murmured as he squinted painfully at the dark blurry shape perched by his side. "What ... happened?"

"Hey, yourself, boss," Kono whispered, beyond pleased at finally having him wake. She'd been rehearsing what to tell him as information dribbled in to her from the field. She thought she'd have so much more by the time he'd made it to recovery post surgery to remove the bullet. She had very wrongly assumed that she'd have some real updates to share. Yet now, she virtually had what she'd been left with so many hours ago when Duke had first arrived after the final explosion.

"It's good to see you. How are you feeling? Any pain ... do you feel okay? Should I call the nurse?" She pressed, concerned by the dark look of pain which clouded his eyes. "Never mind, I can tell that you're hurting, so I'll get the nurse."

"No." He grabbed her hand, pulling her down to stay by him. "No, no nurse. What happened? How long was I out?" Steve interrupted, frowning in confusion as he sensed the widening gap of time that he'd seemed to have lost. It was dark outside and the more he found the wherewithal to focus, the more Steve realized that Kono's expression was just as bleak. He was waking more quickly with each passing second and while he was the farthest from fine that he'd ever been, he had only one recollection that he cared about.

"Chin. Danny. Where are they?" Steve's questions were coming even faster now. He scowled darkly at himself for the vague snippets of remembered conversation; none of which seemed even remotely satisfying. But if he was indeed hospitalized and if Kono was sporting a small white bandage over a portion of her scalp, then some good news had to be on the near horizon. However, Kono's ongoing morosely pensive attitude communicated something else entirely.

"Is it over? Did we get them?" Steve asked carefully. "Yes?"

"No." Kono's eyes sparkled with tears as she breathed out her reply on what sounded like a soft moan. She fidgeted while tightening her fingers around Steve's hand. "No. Not … exactly."

"What? What does that mean?" Steve whispered. His heart was now thumping along in an even cadence with the pounding inside his head. Things were wrong - terribly wrong and he inadvertently shifted in bed, hissing in pain as he pulled on his wounded chest. It spiked a sharp ache deeper in his back and he blinked in surprise, barely suppressing a very real groan of pain. His left leg felt all wrong, too. Heavy and leaden high near his hip. He'd been badly injured, but he had much more to contend with based upon the desperate nature of Kono's underlying expression and the too soft tone of her voice.

"Try not to move," Kono chastised him quickly. "You were in surgery for a long time. I was ... worried."

"Yeah, okay," Steve murmured absently while he inhaled slowly and then exhaled just as carefully. "Tell me ... keep going." He didn't feel well and was in pain, but he gestured for her to continue. He needed to know so much more.

"It was a coordinated assault. Long story short, they got away, Steve, and took both Danny and Chin as hostages," she whispered in an attempt to deliver what she did know as gently as possible. "They took them _both_ … and Duke thinks that they separated them almost immediately. But we don't know where … or, really even why. I can only tell you that the Governor has called a State of Emergency and that the FBI is involved; but no one is able to share very much."

"Separated?" Steve pushed out, teeth clenched in pain and a budding stress because nothing she had yet to say made any sense "What do you mean by gone, Kono. What are you saying?" He spoke too loudly, an inhale was made much too deeply and he gasped as pain overtook his chest, forcing him to weakly wilt into the bed.

"Steve!" Kono hung onto his fingers as she pleaded desperately with him, concerned as he grunted in annoyance for his condition and in refusal to be anything but calm. "Please try to stay calm. None of this is easy and I don't know what to tell you!"

He shook his head angrily, blinking through a spate of tears when his head swirled in resentment. As he gritted his teeth, eyes scrunched closed to ride out the dizzying feeling of vertigo, Kono's voice change from plea to one of frightened anger. " _Please_ , Steve, you just got out of emergency surgery and you have a bad concussion. Plus, you were shot twice and lost a lot of blood. One bullet went through and didn't cause too much other than soft tissue damage, but the other lodged in your hip bone. You're going to be laid up for a bit, and need some physiotherapy ..."

"Fine, fine. Okay, but tell me exactly what's going on ... and for how long," Steve demanded as he cut off her frenetic recitation, stammering impatiently through a studious effort at making his roiling stomach obey. He could - and would - cope with his own injuries, but he was pointing towards the night sky which he could see through the distant window. Too many other things were criticallly important. Hours had gone by and he was woefully behind in the know regardless of what Kono might be trying to explain. "Cameras? Pictures .. any intel? There must be … something."

"Steve, trust me, we've tried all of that. But it was a calculated strike from the very start. Initial opinion is that whoever did this was on the island about five days prior to today's attack. Duke is all over parts of this as having been an inside job. Everything was disabled before the first incendiary went off and we have very little other information to go on," Kono admitted. "Their demands were phony … all of them were faked to buy time and keep us busy. They led us all on a wild goose chase and we believe that this whole fiasco was a distraction for something much bigger … the FBI is on site, but sharing very little about some sort of top secret joint escapade with INTERPOL. There's supposedly some advocate on the way here from INTERPOL headquarters. Someone important from Lyon, France. But, Steve, we don't have a single thing to help us find either Chin or Danny."

"But …that's impossible." Steve was baffled about what he'd just been told. "The island … this is an _island_ ... they have to at least still be … _here_. Don't they?"

"Steve," Kono felt the childlike whimper building inside her throat as she only managed a dismal shrug. She couldn't even hope to describe the fine precision employed against them all. "It's been close to six hours. We've still got … nothing. It's like they all just vanished into thin air." She'd never felt this hopeless. Until that very minute, she'd manage to stem her emotional tide to a great extent because she was juggling two things: obtaining whatever intelligence she could from the field and focusing on Steve's general health and safety. Now with Steve's waking though and assurances from his doctors that he would recover with time, she just couldn't keep up the charade. She was petrified for every single one of her friends.

"Six hours?" Steve frowned, heavy lines scoring his forehead in disbelief and volumes of physical discomfort. He couldn't fathom what he'd been told and he could just imagine the political game playing and infighting positioning taking place amongst the peers. The entire thing was a mind-boggling clusterfuck from the word go. None of it made and sense, plus if indeed true … as with any kidnapping and such a time lapse ... both Danny and Chin were likely already … dead.

"Officer Kalakaua?" A strange male voice brought the two up short from continuing their conversation. Struggling to her feet, Kono looked through her tears at the HPD officer who beckoned her from Steve's side. But Steve wouldn't relinquish her hand and the man was forced to walk into the room and towards the bed.

"What is it?" Steve demanded, his eyes piercing as he absorbed the officer's silent and very telling cues. "What's happened?"

"Officer Kelly's been located, Sir." The man swallowed hard with a nervous glance from one Five-0 officer to the other. "He was found down by the docks."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	8. Chapter 8

** Chapter Eight **

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

The last thing Chin Ho saw was the beauty of the coming sunset. The sun itself was a huge orange ball in a cloudless sky. It just hung there and then it was gone from his sight as he was shoved headfirst down into the bowels of the old dry-docked tanker. He didn't bother to keep track of the few twists and turns made after he was escorted down to a windowless level. This was going to be his final trip and there was no need.

Chin stumbled as he was pushed into a large empty space, his shoulder connecting with a slime-covered, dank wall. He slid slowly around to lock his knees and square his shoulders as best as possible. His face had swollen from where he'd been butted with a rifle, the painful hematoma spreading even upwards towards one eye. He was having trouble seeing and yet, he wanted to face them. He wanted to confront them one last time despite the fact that his hands were still cuffed behind his back and he could only make frustrated white-knuckled fists.

But scarcely one second later, he didn't know what exactly had happened. First, he was standing up against that dank wall, facing two primed weapons and then … a cell phone rang out. One single, high pitched whine which made everyone pause. There was a confused murmur of sound from the small team's newest leader. A sound from deep in his throat which clearly exemplified the oddity of the interruption by whomever saw fit to call amongst their short list of approved contacts.

"Sir?" The man's answering voice was hushed, yet its raspy thickness echoed loudly in the empty cavernous room. The long pause was broken by a startled intake of air and a pair of eyes glittered in confusion Chin's way a millisecond before he provided a peculiar answer. "No, … we were just getting ready … you were _almost_ too late."

With that confirmation, the call ended and the cloned device shoved carelessly into a shirt pocket. Curious glances were shared and weapons were dropped to neutral as a new order was communicated.

"I was told to say one thing to you," the tallest of the remaining trio of mercenaries said, his tone of voice saying it all to Chin. This was no planned action. Someone had pulled the plug on his murder, at least on this portion of their plan. This change was unprecedented and it permitted Chin to remain alive, and all of the men were clearly perplexed. For Chin's part, he could only stare soundlessly at the man as his life was incredibly presented back to him.

"There's some old private airstrip out by Dillingham. If you manage to get out of here, you'll find what's left of him there."

It took just one second more for the weight of those words to sink into his brain and Chin physically reeled backwards as he was deserted. His knees no longer could hold him up and he crashed to the floor, the whoosh of air which escaped his lungs coming out as if he'd been sucker-punched. It wasn't only for himself, but also for the only possible significance of that last message.

 _Danny_.

Once their footsteps echoed away into a dark void, leaving in their stead the only sounds which he could hear: the blood rushing in his ears and that of his own erratically panted breaths of air. He was suddenly terribly cold and having trouble getting himself together. They'd lost them both and Chin sat there for a long frightful moment. Half his team was now gone. Two of his very best friends had been completely taken away from him that day. First Steve … and now, Danny. Yet he'd been inexplicably set free.

_'You'll find what's left of him there.'_

Chin didn't want to move, but he absolutely needed to as tremors began to rattle his body. He still had a job to do because he now had the unenviable task of being the final messenger. From some deep place, he dredged a glimmer of energy and just enough focus to find the wherewithal to struggle to his feet.

Shoulders hunched and still helplessly bound, Chin started to walk.

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

_"He was found down by the docks."_

There was nothing but silence after that pronouncement. Both Steve and Kono were stunned and the young officer was searching for words because he hadn't anticipated being questioned by a somewhat alert Five-0 Commander. And as with many that day, the HPD officer was already overwhelmed by the incredible events and sheer lack of constructive work. The force was running around like proverbial headless chickens. So, he needed to pause after delivering a portion of his news before he could find just the right words. While he had potentially good news on one front, the case and their manhunt were far from closed and he'd been personally exposed to his superior's power struggles and conflicting orders. Nonetheless, he was tasked with one clear role and he needed to steel himself before the news he was about to deliver went from good, to somewhat ... poorly vague.

"And, …?" Kono finally asked, looking incredulously from the officer to Steve, and then back again. Her mouth fluttered opened as if she might say something more, but instead she wound up closing it soundlessly.

"How ... is he ...his condition?" Steve hummed a strange quizzical noise before he finally managed to ask for the both of them.

"He's alive ... he's been found very much alive," the officer confirmed, a small smile breaking free when Kono gasped, still almost too afraid to be happy. "He's a bit roughed up and worse for wear, but he'll be here in less than ten or fifteen minutes."

"Oh, thank god," Kono croaked, her fingers strangling Steve's hand as their eyes met. She shook her head at their next mutual thought, her eyes welling with unshed tears and a frightened worry for want of the next important question.

"Detective Williams?" Steve ground out, his own eyes darkened by a dangerous glow. They had Chin back and the news was astounding to hear. As for Danny though, Steve thought he already knew the answer. He thought he knew it as the HPD officer outwardly winced and then tried not to frown, yet something was there and Steve perked up at the tiny flicker of a nod.

"Yes? What?" Steve shifted higher in the bed, Kono turning to help him when he groaned in obvious pain. He didn't even hear her soft entreaty for caution because had to ask … he had to _know_. "What is it?"

The officer was pensive, worried and unsure based upon the vague information he'd been provided. The Commander's intensity wasn't helping as he nervously fought to piece together an explanation that might make sense. This part of what he knew seemed more like a bad game of telephone, and he was sure that he didn't quite have all the facts.

"Well, it's nothing firm," he carefully prefaced as an opening. "I can share that we're focusing on a lead which Lieutenant Kelly was able to provide; what seems like the entire force is on their way out there now. Details are sketchy and the Lieutenant wasn't sure it was sound, but Sergeant Lukela has ordered SWAT to get their bird in flight to go to a private landing strip out by Dillingham. They're already in the air, Sir, and we've asked our local counterparts to check it out, too."

"Dillingham? That's the damned opposite side of the island," Steve growled under his breath. He tightened his lips to a thin line, his worry knowing no bounds as a number of scenarios flew through his head, including how badly Danny might be injured or if he'd be forced off the island ... or worse yet, if they'd even find him alive. He glanced up meeting Kono's eyes; each of them afraid and yet so very hopeful for more.

"Get down to the ER and wait for Chin," he demanded of Kono just before he pointed a finger directly at the officer, the man nodding in agreement before Steve even voiced his demand. "As of this minute, you're working for me. I want to know ... I want to know everything about this lead and how it pans out ... I want to know every single inch of what happens when someone gets there. Everything! Go!"

Less than fifteen minutes later though, Steve was confronted by a shocked and completely bewildered Chin Ho Kelly who had argued medical care as soon as the ambulance had parked in the emergency room bay. He'd been off the gurney, pushing past people, wide-eyed and appearing almost uncharacteristically manic as he grabbed the first person he could lay his hands on. That person was of course, Kono, and he'd been beside himself as they shared a quick reunion.

 _"Steve?"_ Chin stammered, brushing off Kono's concern for the deep bruising across his face, the scouring of his wrists from cuffs, and if any damage had been done to his eye. _"Is it true? Is he alive?"_

Her nod was all he'd needed from her to yank her along in tow as he demanded to see for himself. Hand in hand with his cousin, Chin entered the ICU on a shambled half-run, breathless and lop-sided from barely being able to see out of only one good eye.

"I haven't been able to tell him anything," Kono rushed out, as she inserted herself under her cousin's arm in order to keep him on his feet. She was smiling, laughing and yet incredibly saddened as her emotions pulled her in too many conflicting directions. "He didn't know …about you … being here."

"I didn't know about you being … alive," Chin clarified as he stood, just staring in rapt awe at his bedridden friend who was very much whole and in one piece. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy, nearly abused from stress and tight with incredulous emotion. "Steve? We practically saw you ... _die_. How?"

"You're holding the reason I'm still here. Or, maybe she's really holding you up," Steve answered smartly with no dearth of pride, though his voice was soft and his tone gentle. "Kono ... she was there. She did it all and she's been trying to manage everything since."

Chin physically rocked in place, Kono's arms now truly supporting him as he looked down into her face. She was crying into his shoulder and he sensed there was much more behind that tide than for him alone. And he completely understood. For one, he didn't believe who he was looking at and almost said as much, but he was at a loss for the right words to say.

 _Steve was alive._ But then there was the issue of Danny … and for a moment they all skirted their terrible fears.

"So? You okay? Really?" Chin asked instead. He swallowed hard, wincing at the dull ache across his cheekbone as he cocked his head for a better look at Steve with his one good eye, knowing that he was only briefly avoiding their next desperate discussion.

"I will be. But you look like hell and should see a doctor," Steve softly replied. He paused for a split second, completely unable to hold back any longer and his face hardened suddenly.

"Danny," Chin said for them all, nodding to agree that their niceties were over. "Steve. I don't know what to say or think anymore."

"What do you know about these people? Let's start there," Steve said. "What's this about Dillingham?"

"I don't know," Chin admitted. "They were literally about to kill me when the plug got pulled. After, I was given one message … and one message only."

Chin grimaced then, feeling the same weakening flux of nausea as he had the first time he'd heard it. The memory sent his head reeling as he mentally replayed the words. He glanced from Steve to Kono, his eyes tearing at the strain before he nervously looked back towards Steve. He didn't want to say it out loud, but he had no choice.

"What was it?" Steve pressed, now paling as much as Chin. All of his angst was resurging again based on his friend's apparent reluctance. "Chin, what was this message?"

Chin coughed, his throat hitching as he recited word for word, precisely what he'd been told. "I was told that 'you'll find what's left of him there'," he repeated. He growled under his breath on the last syllable, his voice rising as he vainly tried to lessen the impact of what he'd just stated. "It's vague, I know. Maybe I got it wrong ... maybe it doesn't mean the worst."

"So, there's still a chance," Kono whispered. Tears continually flooded her eyes though because she knew that her cousin woudn't have gotten it wrong. With Chin returned to them almost miraculously, she didn't want to believe that anything less could be granted them now. However, Chin was still shaking his head to the contrary, the stress he was experiencing once more making his voice hoarse and terribly strained.

"Danny might have done something … for me," Chin quietly said, framing the possibility with an almost guilty expression. "He might have been the reason why they let me go." He'd seen the interaction between the leader of the strong team and his friend. The sparks which were flying during their verbal altercations didn't bode well for a positive outcome. And then there was the combined issues of Danny's injuries and his fragile frame of mind.

"He thinks you're dead," Chin reminded Steve. "He was barely coping with that when we were separated … plus on top of that, he's badly injured. He was wounded early on."

"He was shot?" Steve asked, anger and worry once more clouding his eyes. "How bad?"

"The bullet's still in his arm," Chin shared carefully. "They … _uh_ … used that against him to keep him in line."

"Damn it," Steve muttered, instantly understanding what Chin meant. His partner had a mouth and a temper that might not ever boast a rival. "How bad ... how did you leave him?"

Chin closed his eyes at the remembered purposeful hit to Danny's arm. He inhaled deeply to find the strength to continue on with explaining the worst of it. By his side, he could feel Kono beginning to tense as he garnered the courage to explain the critical last bit of information.

"He took the butt of a rifle directly to the injury and it practically crippled him. He was shocky ... they let me try and patch him up at least," Chin picked up speed as Steve's expression changed to one of fury. If he didn't manage to say it all now, he never would.

"But, there's more … Danny didn't quite hit it off with the man in charge. When they split us ... that maniac took Danny along with his group. And Steve, this guy is a heartless SOB. He's pushing all of Danny's buttons and with him thinking that you're dead ... Danny had this look about him ... he's _borderline_ and ... honestly, I just don't know."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	9. Chapter 9

 

**Chapter Nine**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

"You think that you have integrity? Seriously?" Danny scoffed, teeth clenched in determination as he fought his tiring body. No matter how hard he tried though, his eyes refused to track. The hectic escape from the destruction inside the Palace had finally taken its full toll on him. He'd been bundled away like a rude after-thought, his value as a hostage dwindling with the rotation of too many tires. He'd nearly lost his ability to think and yet, his captor had become jovial and overly communicative.

_Much too attentive._

As the man had promised, they'd retrieved his second along the way during this now final leg of their trip together. For the sheer joy of it, the 2IC had been shown the video clip of the destruction done to Steve's office. Something of which, Danny had once more been forced to live through even though his eyes had been stubbornly averted. But he couldn't avoid the verbal taunts nor the jibes, and he'd eventually wound up cursing at them in his frustration and grief.

Danny's persistent fight had incurred the wrath of the second, a slap settling firmly across his unprotected face before fingers literally found his throat. The leader had watched and waited, a smile pleasantly lifting his lips until Danny's eyes had begun to roll wildly in his head. Only then had he intervened to save what little life remained in his entertaining hostage.

 _"Not yet,"_ Spenser had soothed Dylan, a hand gently splayed across his second's lower back. He had watched as Danny was released, gurgling and struggling to heave in wispy puffs of air, eyes closed in pain and nearly ashen. _"Let him go ... not yet. You have to admire his spirit. Don't you? Men like him are far and few between. Like I said before, he's loyal to a fault ... he's a fighter and deserves a more honorable death."_

Despite his words though, Spenser had continued to torment Danny. He purposefully included his second within this circle of misery, making Dylan even more aggravated ... and Danny hadn't needed this angry pair of eyes continually turned his way. By the time they'd reached this final destination, the tension in their small space had become rife with hostility. Made worse when they were made to sit together for what seemed like hours. And unfortunately none of that overt tension was relieved when the private jet finally did arrive. Instead, Danny was hustled out from the somewhat blessed sanctity of an air-conditioned vehicle to the furnace of some obscure and nearly ruined private airstrip. Dylan was nearly treading on his heels, eager now to finish the job.

"I'm very honest in my business dealings, Danny," Spenser casually replied. He paused, inhaling the heavy humidity with a peaceful sigh. "I'm also a very good leader. My people would follow me to the ends of the earth."

Danny blinked furiously as the beautiful stark-white jet taxied in, one sun-drenched silhouette becoming a hazy two. And as for two shadows, that was a ludicrous joke on him as their blurred outlines shimmered into four and then even five ghostlike images. "No, you're a murderer … running a band of cold-blooded … killers for hire club. You tell me … what else I'm supposed to think when you killed both my friends. One who was at an incredible disadvantage," Danny argued thickly. He was beyond exhausted and running on fumes. His voice was hoarse and barely above that of a husky whisper, yet still he persisted as the leader had the gall to laugh.

"I don't get paid to ask questions, Danny," Spenser explained, a pleased chuckle booming from his chest when Dylan snarled in disgust at the continued conversation. "I also could care less about what you think." His 2IC thought he was talking too much. He definitely didn't approve of the hinted mode of attention fawned on the trapped detective no matter how teasingly contrived it might be.

Intentionally prompted by Spenser though, they had been arguing the validity of Spenser's own feelings of morality. He'd been inordinately pleased by the look of revulsion etched across the blonde detective's weary face. However, the argument had kept the wounded man going for some time now and Spenser's own overly attentive actions had intentionally spurred on Dylan's penchant for jealousy. He was clearly enjoying the level of tension he'd created amongst their small trio as he caught Dylan's eye and rudely winked.

"Enough is enough," Dylan sneered. His hand was on his gun and he had only one thing left on his personal list, which he made clear a moment later. "Why are you doing this? It's pointless. We're done here and I'm doing the honors."

Spenser raised an eyebrow, an approving glint showing in his eyes yet he held up a hand to forestall the action. The angry growl he received in response was telling. He was coming close to a line with his significant other. He and Dylan would be having their own tete a tete in private, during which, Spenser would need to profusely apologize. Until then though, Spenser owned all the decisions and he wanted to toy with the impressively strong-willed Five-0 detective just a bit longer ... and that included throwing him a small bone.

"I get paid to follow instructions and do particular _jobs_. I can only share that Five-0 ... and your office building, along with the HPD ... were a planned and quite contrived distraction for something much more grand in scale," Spenser said, appreciating the way in which Danny fought so hard to remain calm and yet failed as he began to shake his head, sweat streaming down his face to glisten in the sun. He glared at Dylan as his 2IC shifted impatiently from foot to foot, once more angry than this particular line of discussion was continuing. However, there was no risk to their mission. The detective wouldn't be surviving very much longer, so there was no any peril in planting a small seed.

"But, as I've already been compensated, I have no need to know for what. In my profession, the adage that ignorance is bliss can be very, very true."

"I don't believe that," Danny slurred. The sun was too strong and he was too weak now to properly speak. He wasn't even sure that he was making any sense as he swayed dangerously in place when his knees threatened to buckle. His eyes closed on their own as a wave of lightheadedness hit him so hard, he didn't know which way was up. He barely flinched when he felt the sharpness of nails digging into his arm to keep him in place. But then, that all changed as he was violently pushed to his knees.

"Down ... get on your knees!" Dylan ground out nearly in his ear.

Danny fell hard, completely unprepared for the change in direction and unable to control his descent. He wheezed in pain as his arm was jarred and his own skin connected with flint-like bits of gravel which poked through thin slacks. Seconds later, the excruciating heat of the tarmac was soaking up into his body like a living being. The accompanying heat waves caressed his face as the stench of over-heated pavement filled his nose. Wondering if he might even hear the signal for it to happen, Danny kept his eyes closed as the barrel of the revolver was pressed tightly against his temple.

They had done this to Chin, too. Probably just like this …. _exactly like this_ and Danny virtually stopped breathing, the last of his breath rattling loudly in his chest.

"Don't give up now, my friend," Spenser oozed sweetly as he rudely ruffled Danny's hair, amazed when he achieved no reaction. This was a first. Danny had been fighting and cursing him every step of the way for the most minor of touches. He'd even been offended by the off-hand skimming of knee against knee. Only then did Spenser realize that his tormented prisoner was truly unable to catch his breath.

"Breathe. In. Out. _Danno_ ... shake out of it," Spenser chastised him as if handling a recalcitrant child. He hunkered down, no longer smiling as Danny's lips began to turn blue. He scowled unhappily and placed his hands on the man's shoulders to give him a stern shake. He suddenly wasn't pleased and his mind raced through alternatives. "You've come so far - with such spirit - so I have an idea. Maybe ... _maybe_ , I'd like to give you a chance. Plus, when I come back – _and I will_ – I want to be able to visit with you again. We may have more in common than you think."

"What are you thinking?" Dylan demanded as he dropped the gun from Danny's temple. "Are you _serious_ ... what are you saying?"

"He said I had no empathy," Spenser argued calmly. "What I'm thinking is that I'm going to prove him wrong."

Danny heard the voices, but he no longer understood their words. He was struggling to bring a thin thread of oxygen into his lungs. He only dimly realized one other important fact: he didn't know their names. He's been called Danny, Detective, Detective Williams and even … god help him … _Danno_. But for all the time he's now spent with them, he doesn't really know any single one of them. He was never told and they've never slipped up in their frightening roles. Not once; not one single mistake has ever been made.

He has nothing left and he's soon to be the next one to die on their short list. First Steve, then Chin and he'd now be last ... without a single word of apology or love for his daughter.

 _Grace_. The thought of her at that very moment left him mentally teetering as air whistled loudly through his parched lips. Slowly and painfully, his chest seized in objection as his lungs tried to bring in oxygen to his starving system.

"Danno!" A sharp slap connected with his cheek and it sent his head wobbling dangerously on his neck. A distant male voice accompanied a second slap, yet Danny only heard someone else. And, if he'd had the strength, he might have smiled. "Hey! Snap out of it!"

 _"Danno?"_ Grace's voice echoed in his mind and Danny shook his head as his chin fell to his chest. _"Danno! Danno ... please!"_ Where had this maniac learned this special name. Where? With that spike of fear, Danny finally heaved in a wildly shuddered breath. He coughed and tried again, his throat on fire but winning as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"There you are," Spenser gushed happily, fingers running almost fondly through Danny's lank hair. "Just keep breathing, Danno. No sense quitting on me now."

"Go ... to ... hell," Danny huffed brokenly, wanting to retch as the man trailed his fingers along his jawline. He'd been touching Danny's hair, neck or his face for hours; plying him with water and playing a frightening game which clearly was meant to antagonize his second in command and provoke his temper. From the very beginning, no matter how vehemently Danny objected, the overt actions had certainly done a good job of it. But Danny had nothing left now. Not an ounce of strength and he let it happen as the same warm fingers tilted his chin upwards. He'd been stretched to his physical and emotional limits, and it was a sheer battle of will to meet the leader's confident gaze.

" _Go ... t'hell_ ," Danny pushed out as Spenser smiled warmly into his bleary eyes.

"I must say, if your commander was anything like you ... loyal to a fault… I'm sorry that we didn't get a chance to meet," Spenser grinned, virtually holding Danny's head up with his own two fingers. "You are a stubborn one. Aren't you."

"Shut up," Danny whispered, his eyes closing in a ridiculous attempt to tune the man out. He was officially done now, groaning and losing his ability to speak as his thoughts began to wander and fade. " _Juss...shu'p._ "

"Are you out of your mind?" Dylan hissed suddenly. An intriguing change in plans was silently floated between the two, this time though, Dylan's anger skyrocketed. "You are out of your mind! Why .. _why_ would you even consider such a thing? We're wasting time ... let's get out of here ... and be done with it!"

"Where is your sense of adventure? It'll be fun ... to see," Spenser grinned as he stood up from Danny's slouched body. He jovially slapped his second on the shoulder, chuckling when he felt the rock-hard rigidity. "I own this decision, so what could it hurt? He deserves ... something. Maybe they both deserve this proof of my ... _empathy_."

"Empathy?" For the first time, Dylan's eyes widened to express his true shock. "It's probably too late for the other one and I don't care about ... this one!" He furrowed his brow at the odd change in plans, yet Spenser seemed quite adamant. His final nod said _do it_ and, though it angered him immensely, Dylan had no choice but to place his very strange call with the most incredible of orders.

They left him then. After the call was made, Spenser simply left Danny kneeling alone on the private runway. After placing a lingering kiss on the side of Danny's cheek, he walked away without a backwards glance to board the jet with his 2IC and his last man. Only the revving of the large engines made Danny sway in place, his face creased in pain as the noise and backdraft bombarded his body. Minutes later the jet had taxied away and Danny was left alone to bake in the overwhelming hot Hawaiian sun.

The spot where he'd been so warmly kissed stung and burned with a lingering intensity. That single spot hurt more than the slaps lobbed his way. The leader was giving him a chance to live and he'd missed half the argument, yet Danny almost laughed at the sick joke of it all.

 _Pawns_. Yes, that's all he'd turned into that day. A helpless pawn to a sick man's even sicker game.

What came out of his mouth then was more of sharp bark which hurt his bone-dry throat. His wrists were still tightly cuffed behind his back and his left arm was now completely numb. He was afraid that if he moved a single inch, he'd fall flat on his face. He squinted bleakly at the tarmac while it glistened as if it were doused with water, the disorienting heat waves only adding to the spinning dizziness in his head. It was a chance, but a very slim one since Danny doubted that anyone knew where he was and in his current condition, what he'd been given wasn't really a chance at all. What he'd been given was an amusing joke entirely at his own deathly expense where he was the not so funny punchline.

Squinting through the brightness which drilled relentlessly into his eyes and onwards into his very skull, Danny slowly turned his head to eye the small distant storage shed and then the truck that had been left behind. Each was just far enough away to cause him significant issues. Even if he managed to get the truck's doors open, the vehicle was a hot-box, so only the shed offered a true chance at throwing some shade until the sun sank deeper in the sky.

He had to at least get that far for the shade which the shed might offer. _Just that far_ to get out of the blazing heat of the sun which had been absorbed by the old tarmac for hours upon endless hours. However, the shifting of just one knee enough to get a foot under him was as far as he ever got. That one juddering three-inch slide where his toe lazily dragged across the uneven ground was it. That simple motion sent his head reeling with a flux of vertigo at the same time his stomach seized. With that single attempt, Danny wound up crashing hard to his side, whimpering at the flare of pain he caused himself and knowing that he'd just failed before he'd even begun.

Danny's groan of defeat was loud in his ears as he lay there, the unrelenting heat of the baked pavement seeping into the entirety of his weakened body. He missed Steve, the loss an unbelievable gaping chasm in the center of his chest. Danny mourned him. He mourned Chin and all of his losses with a deep intensity as his eyes closed and his body stilled.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	10. Chapter 10

 

**Chapter Ten**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

He knew there was a hand on his forearm and he also knew that hand very, very well. It was heartbreakingly familiar. Terribly _familiar_ down to its warmth, weight and the comforting pressure it consistently communicated. Nonetheless, Danny chose to ignore it. It wasn't real; what he was sensing wasn't even remotely possible.

In fact, it was a downright lie.

"He should've woken up hours ago." That single comment did unhinge him then. Even with his eyes closed and barely yet awake, the tenor of Steve's voice completely undid his resolve and his tenuous hold on sanity. His next breath got caught in the back of his throat and his chest hitched instantly into a painful wheeze which sent tears flooding through tightly closed eyes.

 _'No,no,no.'_ The litany clogged not only his mind, but also his windpipe and Danny wheezed painfully in reaction. He couldn't breathe and then vaguely wondered why he should want to if he'd also died.

"Call the doctor!" Caught entirely by surprise as Danny suddenly convulsed, Steve couldn't react quickly enough from where he sat in the wheelchair. "Shhh! Danny … _Danno_ … you're okay. You're in the hospital. Calm down … take it easy and calm down for me." He was desperate to get to his feet as Danny's brow furrowed in agony and confusion, while his face reddened to an alarmingly unhealthy shade. With his own pained wince, Steve struggled to lever himself from chair to mattress, protectively hunched over and tight from his own raw wounds.

"Danny, you're okay buddy. It's Steve … can you open your eyes?"

 _'No,no,no.'_    Impossible. There was no way on earth Steve could be there … _alive_ … but, there was a human-sized warmth by his side and the one hand on his arm quickly became two. Sturdy and familiar fingers entwined with his own and Danny jerked away as if scalded. Yet, those blessedly familiar fingers tightened in hard earnest preventing him from entirely breaking free. They gathered him back, held him resolutely in place, and Danny moaned loudly in his confusion while trying to move away and shrink into the very bed itself.

"What's going on? What's wrong with him?" Steve breathlessly demanded as their doctor and two nurses swarmed the hospital room. "Is it the fever? Is he having a reaction to one of the meds?" His own face was now wrecked with a stunned grief as his best friend seemingly fought, not only waking, but him.

"Commander, get back in the wheelchair. You can't strain yourself like this … sit down. We'll take it from here." Unfamiliar voices ranged around Danny. He heard them and he understood what they saying in a convoluted way. He simultaneously realized that Steve … _because yes, it had to be Steve_ … was refusing to leave.

"I'm fine," Steve ground out, pain evident in the tone alone as he hovered by Danny's bedside. "Help _him_. Tell me what's going on with him!" He grappled with Danny's hand, his other gently fisting the material up by Danny's good shoulder to keep him from twisting and turning in on himself. "Danno? What's wrong? Can you tell me?" He pleaded softly.

 _Not 'Danno' ... please ... not that._ He moaned as a very real fear pulled at his chest.

"Detective, can you open your eyes? Are you in pain?" A strange male voice prodded him gently to obey or answer the simplest of questions, but Steve's hand which disentangled itself from his hospital gown to palm the side of his clammy neck was the final catalyst. Danny jolted badly at the touch, trying to shout his objection yet completely unable to utter an audible sound around a choked garble.

 _Him. He was back and playing his evil games. Mind tricks .._. and Danny was stuck inside the terrible lie which wouldn't ever end. The warm hand remained steadfast against his neck though, quiet and calming. An all too familar voice virtually begged him in the background to have faith. But he wasn't sure and only knew one thing. He couldn't accept any more deceit.

_No, no. He couldn't do it ... not again._

"It's Steve … please try to open your eyes." The words were the same; as was the voice while sturdy fingers drilled home. But while it remained low and soothing, his voice changed to be demanding in its intensity. "Danny. Look at me."

Panting against pain and even fear, Danny's eyes sprung open as the secure breadth of that warmth encased his skin. Dry, warm, calloused ... and above all ... genuinely caring. The touch was different _... from his ... from ... no ..._ and his mind stalled completely. Regardless of the comparison, he was done in and couldn't cope by what he saw now. He couldn't deal with _who_ he was seeing. By reflex, Danny dug his heels into the bed while staring disbelievingly up into ... Steve's face ... while feebly shaking his head in denial.

 _'No,no,no.'_ Unable to speak, the single word ricocheted relentlessly through his mind while his mouth soundlessly gaped open in avid shock.

_He'd done it again. This elaborate ... lie._

"His sats are less than optimal right now. Get him on oxygen." Danny ignored the strange hands which momentarily blocked his view of intense blue eyes, days' worth of stubble and a shock of messy dark hair. He blinked wildly in a useless attempt to gain perspective when the oxygen mask was placed firmly over his nose and mouth, his breath instantly fogging the plastic in an inane off-kilter pattern. The very much _alive_ person sitting by his side and resolutely hanging onto his hand didn't make sense, yet he wound up meeting Steve's worried expression time and again.

"Tell me," Steve pleaded once more. "Are you in pain?" The chaos taking place around them was forgotten as he leaned forward, his own chest and hip rippling with a hot surge of sheer agony. Steve hissed at himself, but ignored the discomfort in favor of his partner. Danny was incomprehensibly scared out of his wits and that unexpected reaction made Steve feel the same. Steve was confused, and now also very much afraid, but his eyes captured Danny's terrified blue ones in relentless demand. "Danno, tell me what's wrong. Talk to me."

"Dead." Danny swallowed hard and eventually whispered directly to Steve's entreaty, the reason behind his fearful struggle evident now as he managed the muffled word. His eyes were enormous in a face so ashen they competed with the linen of the bed as he choked out the only thing he could manage to communicate. " _Dead_. Died. Saw ... _it_."

Utterly astounded by the revelation, Steve's eyes widened as he grasped how little Danny did know of their current situation. He'd been miraculously brought back to them from the brink of his own death. Ten hours had elapsed since he'd been rushed to the hospital by helicopter and then gone directly into surgery. Only recently upgraded from critical to serious condition, he was still in the intensive care unit. The doctors still reserved discretion as to if Danny might ever regain full use of his arm, but they'd deal with that later because by some divine intervention they had him back. Feverish and ill, Danny had been fighting for hours just to live and in all that time, Steve had _forgotten_. He'd gotten re-acquainted with having his friend home. He'd learned every abrasion and livid bruise, especially the purpled finger-width span which encircled nearly all of his friend's neck. After raging over that evidence of a near strangulation, Steve then seethed over the skin scraped bloody around wrists so badly damaged that the swelling extended into Danny's fingers. For ten long hours, Steve had fallen into a quickly learned routine of doctors, nurses and medical jargon as he gained some of his own ground back to then only ramble incessantly through the ICU, discussing and agonizing over Danny's fragile status.

And he'd stupidly - _forgotten_.

Danny didn't know. Danny was stuck in one old, terrible spot in time. The tension and uncertainty vibrating through his friend nearly stopped Steve's own heart, too, as he realized even more what the man might have been forced to contend with. And if Danny believed so strongly that he might have died, then they'd have to break the good news of Chin's survival just as gently.

"Danno. _No_." Steve's voice broke in understanding, both hands finding Danny's shoulders. He tugged and Danny shrank back, a complete antithesis to his usual warm self. Steve paused ever so slightly, worried and very much at a loss by what he read as fear before persisting. "C'mere. It's okay - we're all okay and I'm really here, Danno. Really."

" _Steve_?" Danny mouthed the name in disbelief. " _Steve_?" He was limp, drained of energy and he suddenly had no real reaction; he only felt a sense of childish bewilderment when one incredibly gentle hand skirted the badly damaged upper arm to settle closer near his elbow. That arm was immobilized and strapped firmly to his body. Only two fingers barely twitched as a soothing heat leaked into his cold skin until he felt another insistent tug.

"Danno, please," Steve whispered worriedly as his friend's eyes anxiously searched his face, yet Danny refused to talk or respond in any real fashion. "C'mere, buddy. It's okay and I'll explain what happened later." Danny was purposefully drawn upwards then and went willingly enough, the hitch in his throat faintly stammering into a weak sob as his head fell tiredly against Steve's shoulder.

He was drifting. Zoning in and out while still unable to really speak or wrap his brain around this incredible truth. Danny felt Steve's heartbeat though and heard the tenor-like boom through his head. Nonetheless, Danny still didn't know what to do. One arm didn't work at all and his other was almost equally leaden, his wrists and fingers feeling thick and uncomfortable. He hurt everywhere, was sickly feverish and found difficulty in truly believing that Steve was there regardless of the tangible proof. Eyes tightly closed, Danny continued to simply suck in erratic puff after puff of pure oxygen, hoping it might clear his head.

 _Praying_ that this elaborate lie was real - that it was anything but a terrible fabrication.

"Commander?" The doctor saw the raw physical pain in the man's eyes as he pulled his partner to a seated position and enfolded him to his chest. The physician in him remained very concerned and demanded an intervention. There was so much more though and the doctor's only recourse was to take a few courteous steps back from his patients' huddled embrace.

"What the hell happened to you?" Steve breathed softly into his friend's hair. Based on how he'd been found, it was more than apparent that Danny had gone through an horrendous ordeal. But other than what they could see evidence of on his body, not one of them really knew themselves. With the detective resolutely unconscious, the medical team could only treat the obvious physical trauma. But no one could ask the other important questions and so, no one really knew what he'd been through. They would eventually learn all of it, but for that terrifying moment, Steve now completely understood what Danny had believed to be the new order of things ... and he needed to correct that belief.

"You're okay, Danno. In fact, we're all okay," Steve whispered repetitively, trying to soothe. "We're all fine ... and we're _all_ here."

Trying to offer consolation to the bewildered bundle of fear and grief which quaked in his arms. The gravity of Danny's situation becoming even more apparent as his friend literally collapsed into his chest, though his heart was stampeding wildly under the thin hospital gown.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	11. Chapter 11

** Chapter Eleven **

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

Over the top of Danny's head, Steve watched as the doctor finally approached, a syringe in hand. He didn't need to ask what it was and he certainly wouldn't argue the point. While the doctor possessed his own skills and methods to confirm his patient's fragile condition, Steve could quite literally feel it. He could also hear each erratically panted breath trapped behind the oxygen mask as Danny fought lie to believe reason. Steve completely understood as he silently berated himself with a guilty shake of his head. And though he appeared to barely acknowledge the doctor's presence, he was watching every move and gauging Danny's reaction.

"Get some rest now," Steve muttered, still watching as the contents of the needle were dispensed into a port on Danny's arm. The sedative was necessary to calm his friend, even though it would likely push him back into a deep sleep. Steve found yet another reason to feel guilty and he sighed around a need to talk. "Everything's okay, so go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up; if not me, then Kono and one of us will fill you in on everything that's happened."

There was no response in kind, nor even an objection to the doctor's protocol. Nothing happened for a moment until there was a muscle by muscle unfolding, the last being those connected to the fingers on Danny's right hand which fell open, splayed to the bed.

 _'And then ... you can fill me in, buddy,'_ Steve added silently to himself because something else was very wrong and he could literally feel that, too.

"Is he all right?" Steve whispered out loud as he finally addressed the medical staff. He still had Danny propped up against him; slumped heavily just under his chin, he'd need their help for the next step.

"What happened?" A new voice inquired from behind them all. Concerned and perhaps even slightly afraid, Kono was standing just inside the doorway.

Steve carefully shifted, conscious of his wounds and the pain in his hip. He moved just enough to see where she stood rooted in place. She stood there, uncertain as to if she should enter based solely on the level of urgency shared amongst Danny's caregivers. "Steve? What's wrong? What happened to Danny?"

She'd changed her clothes, as well as the dressing on her scalp wound after a decent spread of time spent at home. Re-energized, she'd come back to check on her friends, as well as deliver an update related to the ongoing status of the manhunt. When she didn't find Steve in his own room, she rightly guessed where he'd be. Later, after a final discussion with the doctor, she'd take Chin home because he'd be released after a standard overnight to monitor his own concussion.

"Is he okay?" She asked again.

Instead of answering, Steve drew his attention back to Danny where the doctor and the two nurses were literally jockeying him back onto the bed. "So, how is he?" Steve repeated, echoing Kono and wincing though a deep breath which oddly managed to painfully pop and ping all the way into his hip. He'd been told countless times that the injury was a painful one and his perched position had never been comfortable. Steve bit back a scowl as the burning heat worsened. He'd also need help, but for now, first things had to be done first. The doctor was busily checking and rechecking the readings being displayed on the bedside monitors, while a nurse ensured that Danny's injured arm hadn't moved inside the sling.

"Yes, his readings are coming back to more acceptable ranges," the doctor confirmed. "We'll be keeping him on oxygen for a bit longer, though. What happened here, Commander?"

"He didn't expect to see me," Steve admitted quietly. He met Kono's stunned expression, an apology lancing through his own because he'd so stupidly forgotten. "He thought ...and I forgot ... and seeing me ... it shook him up a bit."

"A bit?" The doctor heaved in a deep settling breath. He shook his head at the minimalist explanation, then pulled the wheelchair closer to the bed. "Get back to your room, Commander. Your own injuries are nothing to fool with; your partner's fine and he's going to be sleeping for quite some time. I recommend you take advantage of that before round two."

Kono chuffed a wry sound at the doctor's words, surprised by the depth of the underlying meaning. Though the rebuke was not voiced unkindly, it was still hard to swallow, and the man was entirely right. He knew enough about the situation to provide a savvy modicum of advice. He'd also been the one warning of the injuries of which they couldn't see. Ones, for example, which had prompted the attempted strangulation, now laying beneath the thick smattering of purplish bruises.

"Understood," Steve breathed out. With an almost plaintive expression, Steve pointed from himself to the wheelchair. He didn't dare move another inch for the deep ache now leaking into his lower back. He also refused to look Kono's way when she stifled a chuckle around his next comment. "I ... _uh_ ... need help."

"No worries there, I have no intention of allowing you to do anything on your own," the doctor said, daring to smile as a nurse took Steve's opposite side. "As you seem to be learning, taking a bullet to the sensitive iliac crest is a very painful undertaking. Making matters worse, you've been up for a long time and I want you in bed, Commander. I want you in _bed_ and resting before you do irreparable damage to yourself."

"Un ... _un_...derstood," Steve repeated through gritted teeth as he eased himself to his feet. "Yeah, it ... hurts." He'd been corrected about his hip numerous times as well. While he phrased his injury as a somewhat simple ding of the hip bone, this fine physician took greater pleasure in explaining that he'd sustained a fracture to his pelvis.

Regardless of who called his injury what, Steve needed their help to take the three or four unsteady steps to the chair. But then the chair became a problem unto itself. Each carefully adopted position was worse than the one before and Steve strangled breath after pained breath in his throat as he tried to lower himself to sit. Almost getting stuck mid-way, he nearly embarrassed himself through a desperately pained moan. He closed his eyes once he got there, sweat now dotting his forehead as he tried to deal with the heat he was feeling from front to back.

"I know ... I know this is bad. Try to breathe through it. _Slowly_ ," the doctor coached quietly. "We'll get you back to your room quickly; I'm sure sitting isn't much better and you're due for your own meds. How's your head? Headache?"

Steve nodded to everything the doctor said. He appreciated the man's ability to not hound him and yet Steve precisely understood and accepted the unspoken reprimands. Yes, he certainly was learning about his limitations as he focused on breathing in through his nose. Each wave of pain sent that air out as an erratically panted puff of air from his mouth. However, he had needed to see Danny and he didn't regret much except what he'd so wrongly forgotten. And now the doctor was very right because his head was beginning to spin, while sitting so straight pulled on all the wrong spots. With all the attention turned his way, Steve realized just how much he'd been pushing. So much so, he required a nurse's help to physically lift and position each foot for him on an elevated rest.

"Let's go boss," Kono grinned as they quietly left Danny to sleep. But the small group didn't get very far from the ICU. Just on the other side of the double doors, they were stopped by two officials with INTERPOL credentials.

"Agent Cynthia LaRouche and Agent Marcus Wells, INTERPOL, IRT. We're looking for Detective Williams," the female agent explained. Her manner was authoritative, yet not rushed nor intimidating. While the most basic of niceties and introductions were exchanged, both Kono and Steve remained on their guard.

"I'm Commander McGarrett and this is Officer Kalakaua, Five-0. You can talk to us. But as for Detective Williams? No. He's not up to seeing anyone and won't be for quite awhile." Backed by Kono, Steve firmly stood his ground just outside the ICU. At least he tried from a seated position in a wheelchair. "You got me and the rest of my team. What can we do for you?"

"This was quick," Kono murmured softly, just loud enough for Steve to hear. He relaxed at her words since it indicated an awareness on their part. No matter what she hadn't had time to tell him, his team wasn't completely in the dark. The arrival of agents from INTERPOL was part and parcel of the update Kono had saved for him that day. Their arrival at the hospital though seemed rather ... fast.

From what Kono had recently learned, not one, but six agents from INTERPOL had arrived in Oahu as part of an Incident Response Team to help support the local authorities with what was easily considered a serious policing issue; possibly even a predecessor to a more severe terrorist attack. Of the six, evidently these two had been dispatched with much alacrity to focus their questioning with Five-0. Or more particularly, with Danny first.

However, when it came to anyone seeing Danny, Steve wouldn't hear of it. Already on high alert, he was curt and almost abrasive as he refused them access to his very ill friend.

"You can talk to his doctors to confirm what I'm saying," Steve stated. "Detective Williams is not up to being interrogated now or in the immediate future; in fact, he wouldn't be able to provide any answers if he wanted to participate."

The two agents nodded in understanding, though their disappointment was clearly evident. "We're sorry that he's not well," LaRouche genuinely shared. "And you, Commander, we weren't fully advised as to the extent of your own injuries. We hope that ... you and your team members recover quite soon. But if there's any way to speak to the detective or to Lieutenant Kelly ... we would like to have that opportunity sooner rather than later. We understand that both of your men were in direct contact with the mercenaries who orchestrated this attack."

What was clear to both Steve and Kono by then was that INTERPOL wasn't there for a straight forward assist. They knew too much about the attack; too much about Chin and Danny, even. More importantly though, the agents knew something about the perpetrators. They apparently knew much more what they'd also provide in terms of responding to an incident that could have global ramifications.

"Who are these people?" Steve bluntly asked. "What do you know about the people who did this?" He cocked his head quizzically when LaRouche bit her lip, a bad habit that would always be a clue to what she'd squirreled away inside her mind. By her side, her partner shifted ever so slightly which Steve also read as confirmation of his suspicions.

"Excuse me. But I must agree with Commander McGarrett. Detective Williams isn't in any condition to entertain visitors let alone be questioned for any length of time," Steve's and Danny's doctor said, interrupting the small group's formal discussion. He'd loitered by the nurse's station and was now strolling towards them after having kicked the double-doors open. Arms-folded, he rounded on Steve next to further defuse what would soon be an intense discussion in the middle of his hospital's hallway.

"What did I tell you? You're to be off your feet and I don't mean sitting in this wheelchair. I want you in bed before you're invited back to the ICU. Now, Commander," the doctor said adamantly. "If you're feeling up to it, meeting with these illustrious individuals is entirely at your discretion. _But_ only once you're settled ... not before."

"He's going. I'll take him," Kono quickly agreed with the doctor in part to put a temporary cease fire on the agents' combined energy. They were setting Steve off and he'd harry them back like a dog with a bone. He wasn't up to it and it certainly wasn't entirely necessary. Plus, she was already understanding that the two would only be interested in interviewing those who had directly spoken to or been abducted by any one of their attackers. That wasn't going to be Steve; and frankly, it wasn't even herself. But she could coordinate their first visit with Chin easily enough.

"We can talk later; you both can meet with me first and I'll introduce you to Lieutenant Kelly. But for right now, I need time with Commander McGarrett," Kono said, taking smooth advantage of the opportunity which the doctor had provided. The two agents were overwhelming and eager to dive into their work and having another pair of astute hands was certainly going to be a boon to everyone. However, their unannounced arrival at the hospital was already sapping Kono dry; having them around the other members of her recovering team needed to be managed much more closely and she was now digging in more protectively. Steve growled under his breath and shook his head at her continued intervention.

"Commander McGarrett is recovering from a concussion and two bullet wounds. Despite what he might say, he's not well and he needs his rest," Kono's smile was sweet but determined. In fact, she used her body to wedge the nurse away from the wheelchair's rear handles.

"Kono? Seriously?" Steve frowned at her honesty. Yet, he guilty dropped his hand from the back of his neck where he'd unconsciously been massaging achingly bunched muscles. But that was only the start of it, the aura had begun to threaten along with the one-sided spike of pain preceding a worsening nausea. He glanced up and slightly behind; seeing Kono's amused shrug only challenged him to deny how he was feeling. There was no way around it, so he softly snorted under his breath. His head was indeed aching with a certain vengeance and not entirely from the concussion he'd sustained. Danny's stress had sent Steve's blood pressure skyrocketing and it was his turn to have a very valid, but extremely negative, physical reaction.

"All right. That's fair," the female agent agreed. "We'll get something to eat from the cafeteria and look for you, in let's say, about an hour? Would that be enough time to get the Commander settled and to setup time to meet with Lieutenant Kelly?"

"Yeah," Steve replied in a tone that bespoke of his relief. "Thanks, that's a good first step." He didn't feel well and was now approaching a desperate point of no return as his chest began to adopt the fire which was eking out from the left side of his damaged ... pelvis.

"You're keeping me on my toes, boss," Kono lightly chastised him once they found his room. "You're going to be the death of me if you continue trying to be everyplace all at once!"

He groaned thickly at her reprimand, his eyes resolutely closing as he accepted the help of new hands to get settled in the hospital bed. The pain throughout his body was nearly impossible to surmount and he genuinely wanted to just sleep. As the nursing staff poked and prodded him gently into place, Steve simply allowed the activity to wash over where he lay. He groaned in disgust as readings were read - none of which seemed good - including his slightly elevated temperature.

"You are going to send me drink, Steve," Kono dramatically moaned, shaking her head as the nurses disapproved his current state. She made a face when his stats were shared and then was more than happy to fill him in. "You've got a fever and ... I know you have a migraine. You're starting to look like hell, boss."

"Find out what they know but don't let them in," Steve whispered when he felt Kono gently tuck another blanket around his waist. "Don't leave him alone for too long, either. I promised him we'd be there ... I _promised_ him that one of us would be there when he woke up."

"I won't ... and I know, boss," Kono reiterated. "I'll be there right after Chin and I handle INTERPOL."

"He's been through a lot and we still don't know the half of it," Steve rallied briefly. The stern look in his eye quieted any further words from Kono while she just took in everything he had to say.

"Danny doesn't know about Chin," he added, squinting painfully up through his lashes. Any and all light was suddenly too much for him to cope with, yet he was continually worried about Danny's state of mind. "If he asks ... or there's an opportunity to tell him ... go slow."

"I figured that much, too," she assured him, encouraging his eyes to stay close by running her fingers lightly over his temple. "I'll be careful every step of the way, Steve. But you don't have anything to worry about for a very long time; like the doctor said, Danny's going to just sleep himself out. You should too ... _sleep_ ... and leave everything else to me."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very open ended "ending" pending a sequel. Still, I hope it doesn't disappoint. Regardless of being unsure of a sequel when this began, this was always the ending (with some major obligatory tweaks).

 

**Chapter Twelve**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 

He was shattered into tiny little pieces. Each shard still as fragile as the next and yet, Danny wouldn't speak all of what had happened to him. After all, what could he actually say about it? What could he say that wouldn't sound incredibly ... weak. What could he really say about a soft touch or a single kiss? Except it had all gotten under his skin.

Kono had handled him very well, too. Her gentle sharing of Chin's stay of execution had been an utter work of art. Her tactic had been soothingly simple under the guise of introducing how Danny, himself, had been rescued. How else but through Chin who had been with the other half of the mercenary's terrible faction? They had let him live ... and had provided the most amazing of leads. So, none of it was her fault, but the added stress of understanding why it had been granted and why he'd been found, had begun to lay hard on Danny's psyche. Freeing Chin was meant as a special message. It was an empathetic act because Spenser _appreciated_ Danny. He had enjoyed toying with him and had appreciated Danny in all the wrong ways.

In his appreciation, he had therefore left Danny with a very special _gift_. Of course Danny couldn't complain ... he never would ... but none of that could change the reason why.

Then, he certainly had nothing to say after Agents Wells and LaRouche shared their astonishing intelligence regarding one Spencer McCann. A ruthlessly sadistic murderer, he had a compulsive need to take risks in order to prove his omnipotence. He was also touted as a narcissist and a bi-sexual who often assaulted his victims for the sheer thrill of the hunt. Tendencies which he shared with his very close second in command, Dylan Walker. However, Walker was inherently the more dangerous of the two based upon his known preference to strangle his victims to death. For what it was worth, the depth of information merely compounded the twisted feeling in Danny's chest.

So Danny had haltingly provided what he could when interviewed by the agents; but that recitation was fraught with intentional holes and gaps which solely related to his own treatment. He'd neither confirm nor confess to anything related to how McCann might have _'conducted himself'_ in Danny's presence. He could only admit that McCann had put a halt to Walker's attempt at strangling him too soon. Danny had stuck to those bare facts which he could remember with the most clarity. Most of which were incredibly unhelpful to INTERPOL's long-term, ongoing investigation.

In a way though, Oahu was a nit in their larger global issue. Danny's interview, combined with Chin's, yielded them little in terms of value and it was almost as if they'd anticipated it. INTERPOL's real interest was in how the island might figure into some grander scheme; a scheme to which Danny could only note 'might happen' because he was told nothing else of any real value or consequence.

So he tried to move on. Danny diligently focused on the good things rather than on his failures. He was still trying to fathom Chin's happy existence, the miracle which was Steve, afraid that this reality wasn't exactly … true. Instead of confronting his other secret issues, he nodded at the right times, smiled when he could, and tried to respond with what seemed like the appropriate reply. Danny adopted that habit for as long as he could until Steve, himself, had had enough of his strangely reserved best friend.

"Danno, you need to talk this out," Steve pushed, scowling when Danny winced as if struck. He sighed deeply in his throat as he literally watched all color drain from Danny's face with his next pointed question. "What did they do … I want to hear every single word you've managed to leave out along the way, and I want to hear it now."

"Nothing happened," Danny murmured. Steve was on a certain tact though and he just knew that his days of avoidance were ending that very afternoon. Still, he tried to brush the questions off despite the way his throat was beginning to close. "I told you ... we argued ... I got a little roughed up. But nothing happened, Steven."

 _Nothing_ and yet, everything had happened. From believing Steve had been killed in an explosion to having been forced to watch a video clip of the very same destruction multiple times. He'd been played well and antagonized time and again. He still didn't know how Spenser had learned his nickname either. So while nothing happened, so much was still going on and he couldn't control any single portion. What about Grace? What would happen if Spenser made true on his promise to come back and visit?

He'd been trained better than this; _hell_ he even should be made of stronger stuff than what he was so weakly projecting at that very moment. He glanced up from the book he hadn't exactly been reading and instantly dropped his eyes when he found Steve staring at him so intently.

"Did they … uh, you know …" Steve asked carefully, his voice falling to an incredibly low octave as he awkwardly gestured Danny's way. "Did they ... do ... _something_." No matter how he phrased it, Steve expected a mammoth-sized rant, an argument; he anticipated a loud show of temper where he'd be called some lousy name or another. Instead he got almost nothing and Steve edged forward carefully in his chair, worry escalating to new highs. "Danno. Talk to me. Please."

He knew what Danny had told the doctors as part of their due diligence. There was nothing to note beyond the physical wounds. But Steve also knew much more about their adversaries than even Danny after an in-depth discussion with INTERPOL. So Steve knew about McCann's incredible level of intelligence - in fact, the man was considered a true genius. He was a master manipulator. But then there was this other side to him; this additional strange nuance and obsessive penchant for inflicting pain and humiliation on others which flipped him to that of the insane.

So while he knew something was drastically off with his partner, Steve simply didn't trust he had all the details. There had to be more - there was definitely - more simply based on this long void of silence.

"Danny, you're scaring the hell out of me right now," Steve whispered. His stomach was in knots as he watched Danny like a hawk and yet, was forced to wait for any sort of reply. Nearly sick by a need to ask again, Steve rubbed his eyes viciously before asking with more vigor. "Danno. Did ... they?" The convulsive swallow and the way in which his friend seemed to diminish would have had Steve surging to his feet if he could have. It didn't matter that Danny was simultaneously shaking his head to the negative.

"No," Danny softly pushed out. "Not ... like that." He slapped the book shut in an attempt to cover how his hand had begun to shake. He balanced the paperback on his knee, but it slid off and fell to the floor almost instantly. Danny watched it go, unable to save it from its tumble because he still wasn't physically able. The book fell with a hard rustling of pages, half open and Danny made a face. Though he didn't have to, he was still wearing the restrictive sling around his left arm.

He wore it often under the excuse that his arm was causing him pain and due to that, had also avoided discussions of when he might feel like returning to work. It was indeed an excuse though and Danny realized that Steve had also recently come to that realization. Ergo, the impetus to their current one-sided conversation.

"I'm fine," Danny said with an effort. He was still looking down, afraid to meet Steve's eyes. He wasn't getting off easily this day and he was duly trapped until he offered an appropriate explanation. Almost absently, he rubbed his left arm gently through the thick, dark blue material as he stumbled over his next sentence. "They … _he_ … he didn't … but, ... no."

That was as far as he got. He hadn't even realized that his eyes had closed. Behind his lids, Spenser McCann danced, teased and threatened him endlessly. He coughed to hide the way his throat constricted, a lump instantly lodging there at the remembered sickly fond ruffling of his hair. A hitched gag came next as a stray finger eased across his jawline _– you could work for me … such a team we would make … you and I, Danno. Such a warrior you are … such a team we'd make ... we've so much in common ... -_ and Danny broke. He was stumbling from the room, any credibility fading as quickly as Steve's concerned shouts.

It took Steve a few minutes to get going and he never quite caught up. The cursed pain in his hip preventing much in the way of expediting his movement, as he resorted to struggling to his feet and shoving crutches under his arms. His oddly cadenced hurried walk-thump preceded his arrival to the bathroom door, the door itself nearly splintering on its hinges as he leveled one crutch as if it were a baseball bat. But then he couldn't reach him. Steve couldn't physically reach Danny as his friend coughed raggedly over the toilet bowl.

"The C.O.?" Steve demanded, anger ripping through him because he still didn't understand and had to assume the very worst. "Danno … was it the C.O.? Was it McCann?"

The jerked nod was all he required to send the same crutch cracking into the side of his own wall in a fury. Danny flinched away, wobbling awkwardly and holding the back of his free hand to his mouth.

"If it's not what I think, then what the hell did he do to you!" Steve was trying not to shout and failing badly. "Danny! What happened out there!"

"It's not … not ... you know he didn't do ... that," Danny mumbled inanely. "It's me."

 _He was better than this …_ and yet, couldn't reconcile any of it in his head. Not Kono's stunning ability to rescue Steve, the sheer fact that his best friend was there that very moment, his amazement over Chin's last minute stay of execution, nor any portion of the lies and games which had been inflicted upon him with such glee.

The lies … and then the weird touches when he was most vulnerable and on the cusp of defeat. Spenser McCann had gotten thoroughly and irretrievably under his skin.

 _'Danno'._    McCann's oily voice was always there and it sickened him no end. _'Such a fighter ... so strong.'_   His voice was always just on the fringes of his memory and Danny couldn't forget it. _Wouldn't_ forget because he still wasn't sure how much the man knew about Grace. Danny was positive that he didn't yet know about Steve's survival. How could he explain just how badly Spenser had reached him? A maniac had touched his soul and affected him in the worst possible of ways and he didn't know what to do.

Still, he should be fine now; he should be relieved and happy since his friends were alive and whole. Because ... _nothing had happened._

But he couldn't talk … he couldn't sleep … and he rarely kept a full meal down. He was never far away from the blatantly sexual overtures which Spenser McCann had promised to eventually follow through on. Since that one time in the hospital with Steve, no one had been able to physically touch him except for Grace. He couldn't table anything inside his head or move on because there'd been a promise of a return. He'd finally remembered that part. He'd finally remembered the threatening promise that more was to come and it was why Spenser had wanted him to _live_.

In fact, Danny was only half-willingly staying with Steve for Steve's sake as he recovered. He wanted to be alone; so alone that he ached inside.

"Nothing ... happened," Danny choked out, another spasm rippling through his belly at just the wrong time to negate his words even more.

"Really?" Steve whispered angrily as he watched his best friend slide down the wall to sit slouched and exhausted on the tiled floor. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, made ten times worse by what he was now hearing. Steve was wrecked inside by what he was thinking as Danny's breath hitched unevenly in his chest. "This is _nothing_? Not what I _think_? Then what is it, Danno? Why can't you tell me?"

Danny feebly shook his head. If he wanted to, he didn't know where to start or how to begin. He could still feel the man's fingers caressing his neck as he forced water down his throat. He could still feel unwanted fingers threading through his hair and the too-warm kiss pressed to his temple. It all made Danny physically ill even though nothing had essentially happened.

He'd sound stupid.

 _Pathetic_.

Crazy even.

So Danny took advantage of Steve's physical handicap and didn't answer. He refused to move as he cradled the sling to his body, rocked his head back into the tiled wall and closed his eyes.

_**~ END ~** _


	13. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Notes: last minute decision to add this as Epilogue. My sincerest thanks for everyone who took the time to read and/or comment on this story.

 

**EPILOGUE**

**H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O**

 

"Get up." Steve was stranded in the doorway to his own bathroom, only able to stare in helplessness as his partner shut him out. There was no way on earth he'd stand for it though. "Daniel. Get up off the floor."

For whatever reason, Danny actually listened. He didn't exactly look at him, but he at least got to his feet even if he had to use the wall to do it. He kept the sling cradled to his chest, his fingers fisted and tense while his upper half remained painfully slouched. "How's your arm?" Steve asked, as he eyed the wince and took in the way his friend was standing.

"Fine." Danny shrugged, lop-sided, awkwardly and with scarcely the energy left in his body to care or put up any type of an argument. Knowing he had no real choice, he approached his partner just as slowly.

"We're going to talk. Me and you," Steve whispered as Danny finally walked closer and near enough for him to see the sweat now beading softly on his neck. "Help me back though. My hip hurts."

"Sorry," Danny murmured, the concern that he'd been the reason for Steve hurting himself now the priority. He could hear the anger just below the surface though. An anger that bespoke of Steve's own concern for him, backed by an indignant desire to even protect him. Yet Danny didn't think he needed either of those things. Maybe in fact, he didn't deserve them.

Steve didn't answer Danny as his friend offered him the support he truly needed to return to the living room. He didn't want to risk ruining the tone, no matter how thick with gloom and strain it might be because he knew that Danny would indeed talk now. He ignored the way Danny briefly resisted when he tugged him down to sit next to him on the sofa. He completely ignored the way Danny tried to disengage his wrist from his determined hold. Whether Danny knew it or not, they both needed the connection.

"You were trapped, Danny," Steve said softly. "And I mean physically _trapped_ with your own damned handcuffs. You'd been shot and felt like shit; by the time Chin got out of that dry-docked tanker and found help on the docks. _By the time_ , you were found ... you were so incredibly weak."

Steve paused, his own remembered fears about losing his partner still much too close to the surface. By the time, Danny had been found, no one had known how long he'd been lying abandoned on the old airstrip. But guesses were made and the hours in the residual heat of the day, in his already dire condition, couldn't have been much worse. They all might have been given a chance, but Danny had been incredibly close to death.

"You nearly died," Steve muttered. Heaving in a lungful of air which did little to settle his mind, Steve re-focused on what he meant to say. "McCann knew what he was doing and he took every possible advantage."

Danny shrugged again, but Steve pushed harder. "You thought he killed me; you didn't know. He believed it too, and he rammed that fact down your throat time and again. You also thought that he'd killed Chin and … _I know you_ … you felt responsible for all of it even though there was not one thing you could control."

"It worked out," Danny replied lamely. "You're here ... Chin's okay. _He_ …McCann ... he."

"He's nothing and he didn't do anyone any favors at all," Steve stayed low key, soft and ever so quiet. "He is a _nothing_. You keep insisting that he didn't do anything to you … but he did _something_ , Danny. "

He waited him out then. Steve waited out the trickles of sweat, the nervous swallows and the way Danny had stilled so beneath his hand.

" _Danno_ ," Danny whispered suddenly, eyes averted and his voice hardly audible. "Let's start there. How does he know that? How does he really know that Grace calls me that? Is it really that he might have known you sometimes call me that, too? I don't know; I'm not convinced. Then, he kept … touching … petting. Insinuating things. When his partner joined us … it got worse. He kept … _he just_ … intentionally to antagonize his partner. Over and over again … like it was some game and I was nothing but part of their … _game_. That's when Dylan Walker tried …"

Danny's voice faded around a hitch in his breathing and his eyes closed. "That's when he tried to strangle you," Steve said, finishing the sentence. "And McCann intervened which got Walker even more p.o'd."

Danny nodded, a breath of air stuck in his throat made him cough harshly. He took a long moment to get his breathing back under control; to find the right words which seemed equally stuck inside his brain. Terrible words which he didn't know could correctly express what had happened - how he felt. "Before they left, _before_ the trigger should have been pulled … I was on my knees still and the gun was right there … Walker wanted to pull the trigger so badly."

"They were arguing?" Steve correctly guessed as he fought his own surge of emotion. Against his will, he envisioned Danny on his knees, sick, injured and without even a thread of hope for any single one of them or even for himself. Helpless. _Hopeless_. On his knees, with a gun rocked to his head and held there by an avid killer. Another man who'd been played - _for fun_ \- by his _lover_.

Steve swallowed hard before he could continue, the wheels in his head churning as he tried to consider the potential level of rage spurred inside a killer's mind. A true fury ignited by sexual tension in a jealous fit, stopped a millisecond before it might have been too late.

"McCann stopped him again," Steve said. His brow was deeply furrowed in realization about one key thing: McCann could control Walker. Despite what had to have been a palpable rage, McCann maintained control and Walker ... obeyed. But for how long, because there eventually would be a cost.

"Yeah, he stopped him," Danny shuddered as he remembered McCann's fingers straying through his hair. "I was just about out of it by then. But he … he … _uh_ … had his fingers in my hair, on my face … so gentle … so ... _wrong_." He shook his head, eyes wedged shut as he fought his physical reaction to be sick again.

"Take it easy," Steve whispered carefully as his friend's face paled even more. "What else, Danno?" Danny's fingers were now clenched tightly around his hand. A desperate life-line which kept him just barely rooted to where he was sitting next to him.

"He kissed me." The delivery was blunt and Danny missed the way Steve's mouth momentarily gaped open in shock. Eyes still closed, Danny admitted it with a sharp chuffed sound. "Yeah, he did that, too. Just … on the cheek … so … _nothing_. It was all a bunch of nothing."

"None of its just nothing," Steve finally rasped out. He was working hard to digest what Danny was saying, understanding now why his friend wanted to trivialize the experience yet knowing that would be the worst type of lie. For all of what Danny had been trying to check off his list as _nothing_ , he'd indeed been violated. He'd absolutely been emotionally and physically abused.

"Danny, what McCann did _was_ wrong," Steve shook his head, his eyes were black as night as they took on Danny's ongoing emotional strain. "He meant to use you and get to you while you were trapped under his thumb … when you were hurting and couldn't fight back ...and he did. But it's not your fault, Danny. It's not."

"Thanks for that, Doctor Phil," Danny rasped hoarsely, a tiny smile flaring only to fall flat. He knew Steve was right though. He knew it with his professional brain and had probably even shared those same pearls of wisdom a thousand times himself. Except now they were aimed at him. His emotional side was devastated and he keenly felt failures which he couldn't reconcile in his own head.

"Steve. He's coming back … whatever this mission is … it's not over and INTERPOL is right. But he's also coming back … _for me_. Maybe even for Grace," Danny said, pausing to look directly into Steve's face. His fear was officially out in the open now and he couldn't hide a single aspect of it.

"Or _you_ ... once he finds out that he failed in killing you. He's coming back ... he likes to win ... and that scares the hell out of me."

Steve carefully re-arranged himself next to his friend. If he knew one thing, _if and when_ Spenser McCann returned, they'd be ready for him. "Let him bring it on, Danno," Steve whispered his challenge boldly. "There's only one place he's going to wind up and that's six feet under."

He threw his arm over Danny's shoulders and gently pulled him in close to his side. The tension was still there, he could feel the thrum as Danny wearily accepted the one-sided hug. His partner was exhausted and entirely worn out to his very core. But he could also feel the welcome burble of a rueful laugh and Steve smiled.

He might have _smiled_ , but his eyes held a ruthless gleam of danger.

_**~ End - sequel pending ~** _


End file.
